#think I might start getting bath bombs once a month

[its-an-obsession]

Snow on the Beach

Outer Banks Masterlist | Full Masterlist

Summary: Falling in love with someone can land both ways. Either the other person feels the same way, or everything goes downhill. You and Pope Heyward are a different story. The both of you have been falling for one another for a long time, slowly sinking into the pit of love. It was hard for the others to not tell the two of you that you were in love. It only took one nice walk on the beach for it to all come together.

Notes:

Y/N/N: Your Nick Name

Y/L/N: Your Last Name

Warnings: language

Pope Heyward x-reader

My legs stretched over the backseat of the Twinkie. I waved my hand around as Kiara played music loudly from the car's radio. The four of us waited for John B while he went to convince Sarah to join us down at the beach. Her dad grounded her for some stupid reason, so John B was going to help her sneak out.

"I'm starting to think Sarah isn't coming," JJ commented. He sat across from me with a blunt in one hand. We had been sharing it, but Pope and I never really smoked. Although, Pope would occasionally if he needed confidence or a break from life.

I sat up with my knees bent. My fingers played with the loose thread from my bracelets that hugged my wrists. "What do you think they're even doing?" Kiara peered through the driver's side window. JJ shrugged, looking out as well. "Oh, you know," I pointed the blunt at my mouth.

Pope (GIF Above) and JJ laughed while Kiara rolled her eyes. "I don't think they're doing that," Kiara disagreed. "You never know, Kie. Young love can do stupid things," JJ said.

She reached back and hit the back of his head. He scowled and looked back at her. Pope continued to laugh at my comment, causing me to softly chuckle. Pope and I always seemed to be the closest ones in the group.

When we were kids, we'd do everything together. I mean, taking baths when we were toddlers, everything. Our parents grew up together, so that helped with the bondage. Now that we're older, the feelings have shifted.

I used to see him as just a friend, but now I wonder if that's even the right word to use. We've shared kisses, but nothing passionate, a little kiss on the cheek here and there.

[Flashback: two months ago, third person view]

One night a few moons ago I saw flecks of what could've been lights But it might just have been you Passing by unbeknownst to me Life is emotionally abusive

The Pogues sat on the dock at the chateu. The sun had just set, and everyone was wasting the night away, drinking and listening to music. Y/N leaned against Pope's side. Their legs draped over the dock's edge, just a few inches from the water.

"You ever wonder what's at the bottom?" Pope referred to the water in front of them. The water looked pitch black, given the time of night. "I'd rather not think about that when we're sitting right above it," Y/N answered. Y/N rested her head on Pope's shoulder.

She could feel him tense up, but his reaction melted after a second. Pope set his drink beside him and put an arm around Y/N. He felt complete when she was with him. Pope wouldn't say it aloud, but he was utterly in love with Y/N Y/L/N. He couldn't figure out why.

Maybe it was how her eyes lit up when she saw her favorite animal. Or, maybe, it was how she spoke about the things she's passionate about. It could also be her ability to make his day when she looked at him or spoke to him. Pope Heyward just knew that he was in love with her.

Y/N also wouldn't say anything. She adored the way he'd 'fact-bomb' everyone by being him. Y/N loved how Pope would get energy bursts and want to do everything at once. He would go out of his way to ask her how her day was.

And time can't stop me quite like you did And my flight was awful; thanks for asking I'm unglued, thanks to you

[Present Day, Y/N's Point of View]

Fast forward to now, where I haven't told Pope. Usually, if I ignore these feelings, they would magically go away. But I've been told by my mom that that's not always the case. "Who wants to play a game?" JJ said. "No," Kiara shook her head. "What? Why not?" he sat up in his seat.

He reached over and handed the blunt to Pope. Pope stared at it for a quick second before taking a hit. I took it from him, letting the blunt rest between my fingers. "Because typically, when we play your idea of a game, either one of us gets into an argument," I blew the smoke out the window, "Or we get in trouble."

JJ snatched the rolled blunt from me, claiming I lost weed privileges for the rest of the night. "That is not true," he shook his head. "Oh, that is totally true," Pope said. Before we could start JJ's 'game,' Sarah and John B came into view.

They were running towards the Twinkie, hand in hand. John B waved for one of us to start the car. Kiara crawled into the front seat just as the couple got in. Sarah sat beside me as John B was in the driver's seat. "What took you two so long?" Pope asked. Kie pulled away from the Cameron mansion.

"Rafe knocked on Sarah's door, so I had to hide," John B replied. He breathed heavily, putting on his seatbelt. Sarah laughed with her chest rising up and down too. "Okay, we were just about to play a game. Who's in?" JJ leaned against the door of the Twinkie.

"No," Pope, Kiara, and I said in unison.

_____

(Later, at the beach)

And it's like snow at the beach Weird but fucking beautiful Flying in a dream, stars by the pocketful You wanting me tonight feels impossible But it's coming down, no sound, it's all around

Pope and I decided to take a little break while the rest of the group swam as the sun began to set. Sarah continued to check her phone, so much that John B took her phone away, claiming she needed to live a little.

Since Sarah and John B started dating, Sarah has gotten out of the 'bubble wrap' and has been more carefree. Pope's head sat on his arms as we stared at the sky. I closed my eyes to feel the wind and hear my friend's laughter. I felt Pope's eyes land on me as I took everything in.

I looked at him. He reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. Pope's hand remained on my face before setting his arm back down. A tint of pink appeared on my cheeks. I hoped that my sunburn covered the blush. Pope sat up with his hands digging into the sand on either side of us.

Pope and I watched JJ tackle John B into the water. Sarah and Kiara roared with laughter at the two. JJ was always finding an excuse to tackle John B.

Like snow on the beach Like snow on the beach Like snow on the beach

"Please don't kill each other!" I exclaimed, setting two hands around my mouth. JJ reached up and shot me the finger. John B managed to rise up from the water before pushing JJ. Another splash occurred, and we were all laughing now. "How long do you think Sarah will last before she wants to go home?" Pope spoke.

He leaned into me as he spoke. I could feel his body beside me, making me shiver from the sensation. "I think she'll last a while. The cops haven't shown up yet, so, I think we're okay," I responded, "Did you want to go back in?" Pope shrugged and lifted his hands from the sand.

He brushed the sand away. He set his hands on the bright green towel. I looked at him and then at the sun still sitting in the purple and blue sky. "I can't promise you that JJ won't try to tackle you," I said. Pope laughed and sighed. He finally agreed. I stood up from my towel with his hand now with mine.

The two of us ran to the water. Goosebumps arose when the crisp waves hit my ankles. Sarah put an arm around me, separating me from Pope's grasp. We could still hear the music blasting from Kiara's speaker. "This scene feels like what I once saw on a screen. I searched aurora borealis green," Kie sang as Snow on the Beach by Taylor Swift played.

Pope turned to me with extended hands, gesturing for me to dance with him. I can't lie that Pope definitely enjoyed Taylor Swift's music. His favorite album was Lovers, no idea why, but it was his go-to. I didn't hesitate to set my hands on his. He twirled me around with the water splashing around.

I've never seen someone live from within Blurring out my periphery My smile is like I won a contest And to hide that would be so dishonest And it's fine to fake it 'til you make it 'Til you do, 'til it's true

I chuckled as JJ splashed Kiara before picking her up and threatening to throw her in. She cursed at him to put her down, but that didn't phase him. Pope began to burst into song. He didn't stop until I set my hand on his mouth. Pope's brows furrowed at my action.

"I'm sorry, but you're a terrible singer," I shook my head. "I am not," he said. "Hate to break it to you, buddy, but you really are," John B spoke.

I pointed to John B in agreement. He gave me a fist bump. A little bit later and we were all getting a little tired. "Hey, you want to walk on the beach for a bit?" Pope asked. I nodded and followed him down the shoreline. I watched as the waves swallowed the shells and seaweed that appeared on the sand.

Now it's like snow at the beach Weird but fucking beautiful Flying in a dream, stars by the pocketful You wanting me tonight feels impossible But it's coming down, no sound, it's all around Like snow on the beach Like snow on the beach

"We never figured out what JJ's game was," Pope kicked up sand as we walked. I shook my head, thinking back to the ride here. "Part of me doesn't even want to know," I softly chuckled. Our hands brushed against one another. We stopped walking just where the sun aligned with some houses behind us.

I plopped down on the side, ignoring the sand as it found its way back to my legs. Pope joined my side with his arms resting on his bare knees. "You want to play a game?" he leaned to the side, tapping his shoulder with mine. I turned to him with my brows raised.

"Not JJ's game."

"Good," I sighed. "Let's play. two truths and a lie. I'll go first," Pope sat up straight, "I am terrible at painting, my dad has my name tattooed on his leg, and I was in that Pampers commercial when I was little."

I tapped my chin in thought. A moment passed, and I finally answered. "The painting one is a truth, and your dad does not have a tattoo," I said, "But you were in that Pampers commercial." He applauded me and rolled his eyes.

"You were so cute in that commercial. I remember going to set with your family, your mom was so excited," I said. Pope rolled his eyes and motioned for me to go. "I go to Pilates with my grandmother every weekend, I won a pie-eating contest when I was in elementary school, and I used to eat Plato when I was younger," I said.

"The pilates one is a lie. You won that pie-eating contest in fourth grade because your brother thought it might be funny, and you were sick for a week because you kept eating that stupid red Plato."

I pointed at him in agreement. The sun had completely set, with the moon now replacing it. I looked up and noticed the stars had begun to scatter. "How did you not get sick from eating all those pies?" Pope questioned. "No idea," I said. It was nice to reminisce, something the two of us have always done.

I can't speak, afraid to jinx it I don't even dare to wish it But your eyes are flying saucers from another planet Now I'm All For You like Janet Can this be a real thing? Can it?

It grew silent between us. Pope's eyes shifted from me then to the sky and ocean. "You know that feeling when you lock eyes with the person you like, and your heart skips a beat?" I stated.

Pope opened his mouth to speak but closed it. I could already tell he was going to reply with a fact, trying to find some response. "Yeah, that's Arrhythmia. You could die from that," he said. Yep, there it is. I rolled my eyes and chuckled. He agreed and looked out at the ocean.

The clouds started to fill with rain. Cold droplets fell from the sky, which created little indentations on the warm sand. I covered my head with my hands as if that would keep me from getting hit by the raindrops.

When I looked over my shoulder, I saw Kiara and Sarah holding hands as they twirled in the rain. My smile grew wider as I saw my friends dancing with the rain falling and the music playing. It was like a scene from a cheesy Rom-Com my mom enjoyed.

Thankfully it wasn't thundering, so we could stay outside. When I turned back to the view, Pope's eyes were on me. "What?" I said. "Nothing. You're just really pretty," he replied. We noticed that the group was starting to pack up our things.

The Twinkie wasn't parked too far away from the beach. So, we wouldn't have to be in the rain any longer. "We should probably get going. Don't want to be caught up in the storm on the way home," I stood up from the sand and brushed myself off. Even though I was trying to get the sand off, the rain kept making it stick.

Are we falling like snow at the beach? Weird but fucking beautiful Flying in a dream, stars by the pocketful You wanting me tonight feels impossible But it's coming down, no sound, it's all around

"Wait," Pope grabbed my wrist. I was unprepared for the feeling of his lips on mine. It took me a couple seconds to comprehend what was happening. Was it really this easy? Was this all I had to do, to tell him how I felt?

Questions upon questions filtered through my mind, so much that I forgot what was happening. Pope's hand disappeared from my wrist as it laced with my hand. The rain slid from my skin onto the warm - now cold - sand.

Who would've thought that I'd ever have a kiss in the rain? Pope looked at me with a smile on his face. "No one's ever kissed me like that before," I said. "Is that a good thing, or...." his sentence wander. I bit my lower lip, nodding in reply. Pope grinned widely before leaning in for another kiss.

Like snow on the beach Like snow on the beach. Are we in a dream? Like snow on the beach Like snow, but it's coming down, no sound, it's all around

Kiara was the first one to cheer. The rest of the group followed along. "Thatta boy!" John B exclaimed, throwing an arm up in the air. Pope leaned his forehead against mine. He brought an arm in the air as well and hollered. Pope put his arms around me, hugging me tightly.

Taglist: @kasidy709 @soflties @elliecool123

[animeomegas]

Kinktober - Day 26

[Neji (Naruto) + Wedding Night]

Summary: Your wedding had been... not great, to put it lightly. Forced to follow the Hyuuga traditions that included Neji spending three hours in hair and makeup, horrifically outdated vows about omega submission and obedience, and judging glares, didn’t exactly make for an enjoyable day. But it was over. Your honeymoon could begin tonight. And what better time for Neji to let out his huge virginity kink?

Warnings: Mention of Hyuuga nastiness, Neji commits a minor act of arson also lol. Also this is short, but I’m running out of steam, I’m sorry!

You stared at the bathroom door which had been closed for the best part of an hour. This wasn’t quite how you imagined you’d be spending you time on your wedding night, but you understood. Neji’s clan had forced him into three hours of hair and makeup before your wedding, so it was no wonder it was taking him some time to get it all off, especially because he’d denied your offer of help.

You sighed and flopped down on your bed. The wedding had been horrible. It was stuffy, overly formal and filled with the oppressive glares of Neji’s clan. Neji had taken everything gracefully, but you could tell how unhappy he’d been the whole day, his hands kept automatically rising to wipe at the cakey makeup, and you’d noticed that the extremely heavy head ornaments had been hurting his neck.

‘But it’s over,’ you reminded yourself. You and Neji, once he’d freed himself from his wedding kimono, were free to start your honeymoon. You’d managed to wrangle an entire month for your honeymoon, mainly because you’d argued that the time was necessary considering your plans to travel at a civilian pace to the Land of the Snow with Neji.

Well, that was what you claimed to the Hyuuga at least. In actuality, you and Neji were spending the whole month at your old apartment you’d lived in before moving in with Neji. The Hyuuga had assumed you’d sold it, but you’d kept it as a sanctuary for you and Neji to hide in when everything got too much, and you didn’t want to be found. It was a small one-bedroom flat, but it was perfect. You’d filled it with food and bath bombs and tea, everything you could think you might need during a honeymoon, and no one knew you were going to be there. No stress, no travel, no hassle. It was the perfect plan.

Just then, the bathroom door creaked open.

“Neji,” you breathed out, admiring him as he walked out. He was wearing one of your old, oversized t-shirts, his hair was now loose, his face still damp, an open smile resting on his face. “You look… stunning.”

Neji raised an eyebrow.

“You didn’t sound that excited when I walked down the aisle.”

“Wait, no!” you blanched. “You were also stunning then! I just- you didn’t look as much like you! This- you look more comfortable now, that’s all!”

Neji laughed, ending your nervous stuttering while he slid into bed beside you.

“I’m joking,” he smiled. “You couldn’t even see my face under all that makeup, how would you know what I looked like?”

“You’re mean,” you pouted, smacking him on the shoulder. He looked so much lighter now that you were alone.

“We have a whole month,” Neji shuffled closer to you and rested his head on your shoulder. His voice was quiet but you could hear the excitement in the undertones. “A whole month when no one can bother us. How are we going to fill all that time?”

Oh yes, he was definitely feeling excited. He was using that voice he always used when he was trying to imply something sexual. He knew exactly how he wanted to spend this month but even after all this time together, Neji never said anything seductive outright. He always talked around it; it was adorable.

“Oh, I can think of a few ways we could spend that time,” you whispered, slinking an arm around his waist, playing along. Neji giggled so quietly you barely heard him.

“How?” Neji whispered heatedly, lifting up his head to stare at you in the eyes now.

“Like this,” you whispered back before sealing your lips together. This kiss was slow and heated, and much more fun that the chaste little peck you’d given each other at the altar. Between the soft sheets in a private apartment, finally you felt relaxed and happy, free from the harsh Hyuuga gaze as they judged you for treating Neji like a human being and for dragging him out of their clutches. The same anger you’d felt all day started rekindling in your stomach as you thought of those evil little-

“I love you,” Neji said suddenly, fluttering his eyelashes at you and shattering the anger immediately. “I’m sorry today was awful, but let’s not think about it anymore.”

“You’re right,” you agreed, pressing a kiss on his head. “Let me distract you.”

With that, you started sneaking your hand up Neji’s thigh and under the oversized t-shirt. Neji let out a rather performative gasp that brought a smile to your face. He was always playing the virgin.  

“That feel good, omega?” you asked, gently running your fingers up and down his thighs, dancing right next to his crotch before drawing the fingers away.

Neji whined a little and nodded, biting his lip.

“Be careful, I’m sensitive,” he whimpered, nuzzling into your shoulder. You accepted the nuzzle eagerly, but you couldn’t help but chuckle at his behaviour. He was really laying the virgin act on thick tonight. Not that you minded, of course, it was undoubtedly adorable.

“Shh, it’s alright, I’m going to make you feel so good,” you murmured into his hair, finally pulling up his shirt so that it was bunched around his waist. “Oh, what are these?”

Neji was wearing a pair of silk white lingerie panties. You knew that the Hyuuga made omegas wear white lingerie under their wedding attire for their wedding night, but you really didn’t expect Neji to follow that tradition…

“Are these… the ones your clan gave you?” you asked hesitantly, running a finger around the rim of them.

“No,” Neji denied, immediately dropping his act. “I bought these. The clan ones were lace and I burnt them in the sink twenty minutes ago.”

“Good,” you grinned, not at all concerned with Neji’s small act of arson; you were tempted to burn down the whole wedding venue when Neji was forced to promise to submit to you in his vows. “I can enjoy these ones properly then.”

You turned around on the bed so that you were facing Neji and pulled him closer by the hips. Neji gasped and held a shaky hand to his mouth while you smoothed your thumb over the silk. Neji loved the feeling of silk and had many silk pillow cases on his nesting pillows. But he still rarely wore lingerie, silk or otherwise, so you were going to make sure you enjoyed it to the fullest.

“Do you like them?” Neji asked shyly, bashfully turning his head, his hair falling in front of his face.

Rather than answer verbally, you leant down and sucked on Neji’s cock through the silk. Neji shivered and brought down a hand to shakily rest on your head. You continued to tease the skin around the underwear with your tongue, enjoying the way Neji’s skin jumped under the gentle flicks. But Neji had clearly had enough.

“Alpha,” he whined. “Here…”

He gently pulled your hands to the edge of the lingerie and hooked your fingers around the band, encouraging you to tug them down.

“Oh dear, have I left my sweet husband waiting for too long?” you teased him. Neji was really embracing the blushing virgin role tonight and you were thoroughly enjoying it. “On our wedding night of all times?”

Neji said nothing. He simply squirmed in place and tugged impatiently at you hands that were still hooked in the band of his underwear.

“Let me make it up to you, darling.”

…

“Uh, uh, uh,” each thrust was accompanied by a moan from Neji. He was being so vocal tonight. You had been going for over an hour now, firmly determined to make your wedding night as enjoyable as you could, especially after the shitshow that was your wedding. About twenty minutes ago, you’d both moved into what was once the living room but was now a giant nest for Neji, and you were currently buried in the expensive fabrics as you made love to your mate on your wedding night.

“You’re doing so well, darling, do you think you can cum one more time for alpha?”

Neji whined, hair splayed everywhere.

“Alpha,” he whined, reaching a shaky hand towards you, the tears and blush making his performance very convincing. “It’s too much, I can’t take anymore.”

You slowed down and stared at Neji’s face. That wasn’t his safeword and he looked okay. Neji said things like this all the time, so you had a permanent safeword in place. A safeword he wasn’t using, this was just part of his character.

“You can take it, omega, I know you can,” you nuzzled at him as you kept up your thrusts. “You want to make me proud, right?”

Neji nodded, pieces of his thick hair falling into his face. Pieces that you gently removed before pressing kisses on the newly revealed skin.

“You have to help me though, alpha,” Neji reached up and linked his arms around your neck. He was fluttering his eyelashes at you again. The feeling of fondness burned in your chest as you looked down at Neji. It was so beautiful to see him embracing his sexuality so openly tonight, because kami knows it took you both lots of hard work to get to this point.

“I’ll always be here to help you,” you promised, the double meaning obvious in your words. “Today I made a promise to you, and I’ll never, ever break that promise.”

Neji’s character cracked just a little as he heard your declaration. He looked surprised at first, before his face melted into a little, genuine smile.

“Then help me. Please.”

You reached down and held his face in your hands, rubbing your nose against his.

“Anything for you.”

Turns out that although the Hyuuga clan had no idea you were there, hiding away for your honeymoon, having sex for hours every day did tip off the downstairs neighbours. Oops.

[build-a-bastard]

Venom hc's

© build-a-bastard - all rights reserved. do not distribute, repost, copy, modify, or plagiarize my work. do not read my writing as asmr. all other queries - ask for permission

A/N: So some of these are a bit nsfw, if you're not 18+ do not interact with this, please. I really just wrote these on a whim then it got long 🤡 I do not have a beta reader, nor have I proofread this, or done any research beyond watching the film, so please either point out any errors in my asks or just ignore it 😌 I hope you enjoy, begins after the cut✌

Venom does not have a single fine motor skill or brain cell, so Eddie's apartment looks like it has been child proofed (locks on the knife drawer, that little like toilet clamp thingy, stuff is like blu tacked down)

Venom discovered snakes once while watching TV once, so when they're bored they'll come out of Eddie looking like a little snake and do snake things (drink with the flicky tongue, slither, weave themselves around things, which typically end up being Eddie's limbs)

Venom doesn't quite have enough goo to make a full body version of themselves without Eddie in them, so whenever they do, they're much closer to Eddie's size, they're much shorter and skinnier, but still an inch or two taller and broader than their host

Venom has begun to sleep, and when they remain out during sleep, they drool

Venom licks Eddie to get his attention when he's working, it's the only thing that gets a reaction

Venom has acted as Eddie's motorbike helmet, underwear and socks, separately, due to Eddie not doing washing and losing stuff

Eddie has picked a lock by asking Venom to make themselves very thin and pointy, Eddie already knew how to pick locks, but just forgot his kit

Venom adores using social media and their favourite is reddit, if Eddie isn't using either his phone or his laptop Venom will start using it

Venom gets drunk when Eddie gets drunk

Venom's chocolate addiction has led to Eddie being forced into a sex shop to purchase A) mini dick shaped chocolates B) chocolate body paint C) a dildo made out of solid chocolate (the cashier didn't say anything but did give strange looks to the tired man in mismatched lounge wear and sliders that looked like cod, who seemed to be muttering animatedly at nothing while he was searching the shop)

Venom has never heard of nutrition in their life and Eddie was almost admitted into hospital with scurvy because Venom kept complaining that vegetables tasted bad

Venom's favourite film is Alien and has re-enacted the alien-bursting-out-of-the-chest scene (minus the actual injury, they just concentrated a bunch of goo on Eddie's chest and "burst" out, with a little face on the end)

Venom's favourite radio station is the jazz station and will get moody if/when Eddie turns it onto the news

Eddie showered with swimming trunks on for the first couple of weeks while he was still not entirely comfortable with the concept of an alien symbiote seeing him naked

Eddie had 1 (one) orgasm in the first 6 months that he had venom, and it was a wet dream, he was so viscerally uncomfortable with the idea of jerking off in front of Venom and he wasn't really looking for a partner (out of concern for their wellbeing)

Venom discovered what porn was through twitter, one of Eddie's mutuals had retweeted a bunch of it (they claimed they'd been hacked but everybody suspected it was a case of 'wrong account'), some time later Venom asked Eddie about it, leading to Eddie's first voluntary orgasm in a long time

Eddie has a subscription to a hentai site because Venom enjoys the tentacle videos

Eddie has redecorated his bedroom 5 times now because Venom is indecisive about what their favourite colour is

(Only with Eddie's direct supervision) Venom rather likes baking

Venom loves the brand Lush, and loves their bath bombs specifically

Venom also loves baths and whenever Eddie has one (once a fortnight, at Venom's request) they spread out under the water like a network of blood vessels

Venom had described what Eddie's organs look like to him, and has replicated them in a little goo torso when he got more curious

Venom purrs like a cat when Eddie pets their head, they'll also curl up in a ball on his stomach, just like a cat

Venom absolutely melts when Eddie calls them a pet name (they still won't tolerate "parasite" though)

A/N: Might release more of these in future if I can actually think of any, I'm sure the new film will spark some inspiration (the trailer already has)

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

late night calls

Summary: It all started with a phone call to the DEA office to tell Javier about the surgery of his father. You had insisted to take care of him after Chucho told you about the surgery. That you would fall in love with his son you had never met before? Just as surprising to you as it was to Javier.

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Plus size reader

Wordcount: 4.1k+

Warnings: fluff, phone sex, mentions of bomb attacks, sexism, self doubt, yearning?

A/N: I know that probably more time passed between the bombing and Javier being send back to the states but I chose to ignore it. For the plot. Hope you enjoy it :)

Masterlist

*taglist in reblog

You still weren’t used to the heat. Yes, you did move to Texas because you wanted a fresh start. But the fucking heat would take some time to get used to. Nothing was holding you back in Maine. You had spent the last years taking care of your sick mother. She had died just before Christmas and with her all the family you had left. 

So coming with the new year you took a leap of faith, packed your things, and moved to a little town close to the Mexican border. You got a job at the local police station as a secretary that made a decent sum of money each month. Life was good. At least you told yourself so. 

You had made a couple of friends. Mostly the older generation of the town. You weren’t big on going out, nor had the town a big nightlife in the first place. That’s why you insisted on taking care of Chucho after he told you one day at the diner that he had to get a hip replacement. His wife had died a long time ago and his son wasn’t able to leave work.

“Don’t you have some better stuff to do cariño?” He had asked.

“What better way to start your day than on your Farm, Senior Peña.” You had winked at him.

Chucho might have been a stubborn old man, but once he got out of surgery and was in pain he was thankful that he accepted your help. That was also the first time you heard him talk about his son. Javier.

“Be a dear and call him to tell him I’m okay?” He had mumbled before he dozed off again. You had chuckled, kissed his cheek before you left him for the day to went over to his farm. Once you had taken care of everything for the day you sat down on his kitchen island and grabbed the phone, dialing the first number he had written down.

You had suggested moving into his place in his recovery time. It was a beautiful place. Mexico was just on the other side of the river down the property. But the best part about this place was the air conditioning. Okay… You really loved this place and it definitely was an upgrade to the small apartment you were renting in the city. 

Waiting for his son to pick up the phone you wondered what kind of job he would have that he wasn’t able to take care of his father. You didn’t judge him, okay maybe a little, you were more curious. You had seen some pictures of him spread through the house. But you had never asked about him.

“DEA Office, how may I help you?” A woman answered your call.

“Uhm… Is Javier Peña available? It’s about his father,” you tried.

“Oh of course. Agent Peña just got in. Please hold.”

Agent Peña? DEA? You had so many questions but they died on your tongue when the call connected again.

“This is Peña.” A deep voice said. He reminded you of his father.

“Hello Mr. Peña. I’m only calling to let you know that your father’s surgery went fine. He wanted me to forward this to you.”

“Javier, please. Not even my father likes to be called Mr. Peña.” 

“Oh I noticed that,” you chuckled.

“He’s fine yeah?” You heard something shuffle on the other end of the line. 

“Yeah. Already made some jokes and told me to make sure I feed the horses in the right order.”

“You’re taking care of the horses?”

“Yeah. I’m temporarily moving in to help your father.”

“That’s very nice of you. He never told me about you.”

“There’s not much to tell.” You got up and took out a bottle of water from the fridge. “I’m only here for the air conditioning.” You joked. He laughed.

“Fuck I miss air conditioning. Hold on.” You sat down again, hearing only damp voices.

“Fuck. I need to go. Please call me if something comes up. Dad has my home number too, right?” He was speaking quickly and you wondered what was happening. 

“Yes, he wrote it down for me. Everything okay?”

“Yeah hopefully. Just some work stuff. Keep in touch, yeah?”

“Will do Javier.”

Chucho got home a week later and he was the worst at listening to doctors’ orders. You still had to go into the station to work, but you spend your whole time worrying about him. It was funny to you how he seemingly had become a father figure to you in less than a couple of weeks. 

Of course you found him standing at the kitchen counter when you got to the ranch, the phone tugged between his shoulder and his ear, making himself a sandwich.

“Shouldn’t you be resting?” You asked, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“I was. Then Javi called and I got hungry.” 

“Stubborn old man,” you grumbled and he rolled his eyes.

“Come on, I brought dinner.”

“Fine. Here. Javi wants to say Hello,” he handed you the phone before he slowly trotted towards the couch. Shaking your head you put the phone to your ear.

“You are really strict with him,” Javier said.

“Someone has to. Are all you Peña men this stubborn?” 

He chuckled. “You have no idea. How is he doing?”

“Overall good. Not complaining as much as in the beginning but then again I am bribing him with my delicious cooking.”

Javier and you had spoken to each other at least two times per week since the first time you called to tell him about his father’s surgery. You learned that he was a DEA agent on the hunt for Pablo Escobar. You learned that he was feeling guilty about not being there for his father and to take care of the ranch. You learned lots of things about Javier Peña. 

“Ah... Delicious cooking. Maybe one day you get to cook for me?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You teased, hearing him take a sip of his drink. Whiskey probably. 

“Just that my father is praising your cooking so much I wonder if it really is that good.”

“Oh, it is, Peña.” You found yourself smiling. You heard him sigh.

“Everything’s okay over there?” You asked.

“Yeah,” he said too quickly. Definitely a lie. You nodded.

“You wanna stay on the phone while I prepare dinner?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he whispered.

The better Chucho got, the longer the phone calls between Javier and you seem to get. It was mostly at night after he got home from whatever he had been doing at work that day intending to check in on his father. But after a few sentences, he asked about your day. About how you felt. What your plans for the coming weekend were. 

“You sound exhausted Hermosa,” he sighed. It had been a long day at work and all you wanted was to grab a pint of ice cream and drown your sorrows.

“Just the usual sexist bullshit at the PD,” you groaned.

“Want me to kill them?” Javier joked.

“You take care of your nemesis, I take care of mine. But I appreciate the help.” You sat down on your bed, knowing that this was usually the room he occupied when he was here to visit his father. 

“Noted. But if it’s any help, I had a shit day too. They seem to get more frequent the longer I stay in this shithole.”

“Maybe you have to focus on the good things of being in this country. There have to be some. The food probably. I always enjoy new food. Maybe go to a museum? I don’t want to intrude but you don’t seem like you do anything besides work and well…”

It was pure accident that you had heard the voice of a woman one night when you had called him for a change. You knew that he looked good, you had seen the pictures, so it shouldn’t be a surprise to you, that he did have a girlfriend. He clarified that he didn’t, that this was just a woman he got intel from. You didn’t ask any more questions, it wasn’t your right. That it hurt to think of him and another woman was something you chose to ignore.

“I never thanked you,” Javier said. You let yourself fall back into bed, staring at the stars outside the window.

“What for?” you asked quietly.

“Thanking care of Dad and the ranch. Listening to my drunken ramblings. You’re a good friend,” he said. You smiled, a warm feeling spreading in your chest.

“You’re a good friend too, Javi.”

Chucho didn’t need anyone to take care of him. Not when he was back to his old health after a couple of months. But he had asked you to move in with him anyway. And you loved to live with the old man. Enjoying not being on your own all the time. And you loved helping him out at the ranch. The PD was still getting on your nerves and you were seriously considering just quitting.

“I hate it. I fucking hate it. I get one dumb line after another, just because I’m a woman. That I helped to get together the evidence to put that fucker away that killed all those women last year is not even of interest. FUCK!” you complained to Chucho. He knew about all of this already. Yet he jumped from his seat when he saw that you did cut yourself while making dinner.

“Careful.” He took your hand in his, leading you over to the sink to look at your wound. It didn’t hurt that much. 

“What about if I take care of dinner today, and you go and take a bath? Javier is probably gonna call in a bit…” Chucho winked, putting a bandaid on your finger.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you frowned.

“Just that I see the way you smile every time my son calls.”

“Two whole days off? What are you gonna do with yourself?” You joked. You were laying in the bathtub, the phone in your hand as you talked to Javier.

“Don’t know. I feel like I need a home-cooked meal so I’m gonna nag Connie to cook one.”

You chuckled, crossing your legs.

“Is that water I hear?” he asked and you blushed. Why? You didn’t know. You had undressed numerous times while on the phone with him, but being completely naked and him knowing about it…

“I’m in the bathtub. Chucho’s orders. He’s making dinner before I kill myself doing it.”

You were met with silence.

“You okay, Javi?” You sucked your bottom lip in. “I did only cut my finger,” you joked.

“Just trying to get the picture of you naked in the bathtub out of my head.”

“You don’t even know what I look like.”

“Doesn’t matter. All I need is to hear your voice and I’m hard…”

“Javi…” you whispered, feeling hot all of the sudden.

“Will you tell me?” he asked.

“Tell you what?”

“If you think about me? Because you are on my mind all the time. I keep picturing how you look. If you have long hair or short hair. What color your eyes have. If your smile is only half as beautiful as your laugh. Fuck… I just wanna see you. I wanna feel you. I wanna taste you Hermosa.” 

Unintentionally your unoccupied hand had made its way down your body, your breath coming in short pants.

“Keep talking Javier…” you whispered, your hand slipping in between your legs.

“I want to touch you. Fuck I bet your skin is so soft. I’d worship you. I stay up at night wondering if I could fit your boobs in my hands. What sound you would make when I close my mouth around your nipple…”

“Shit Javi…” You moaned.

“I wonder how you taste. Are you wet for me baby?” he asked and you heard a zipper being undone on his end of the line.

“So wet. You always make me wet. I touch myself when we get off the phone, wondering how it would feel to have you here…” you whimpered.

“I would have fucked you on every flat surface in the house if I was there. The thought of you sleeping in my bed is making me lose my mind.”

You circled your clit with your fingers, a low moan coming from your lips.

“I wonder how you feel wrapped around my cock. I wonder how you sound when I make you cum. I want to hear it so badly…” You were sure he was fucking his hand and you whimpered at the thought.

“I wish it was my hand wrapped around your big cock right now. God, I wish it was your hand between my legs and not mine…” You bit your lips, keeping yourself quiet.

“Put two fingers into that cunt and make yourself cum. I wanna hear you…” he groaned on the phone. 

“Fuck Javi…” you cried quietly, two fingers inside your cunt. “I wish it was your cock and not my fingers.”

“Me too… Me too babe.” he moaned. “Circle that clit for me. Cum for me.”

Circling your clit you almost let the phone fall into the tub when you came with a low moan. You heard him cry out your name on the other end of the line before all that was heard was both of your heavy breathing. 

“Javi…?” you asked after a while, still high from one of the best orgasms you ever had. You heard the familiar sound of him lighting a cigarette.

“I meant every single word Hermosa. I want you.” You never thought you would hear these words from him or any man for that matter. You weren’t a typical beauty. You weren’t skinny, you loved food and your curves showed it. On most days you were happy with the way you looked. But you also knew how Javier looked. He was an attractive man and you knew he did indeed have a new woman every other night if he felt like it. He might be interested now, but once he would meet you, there was no way he would make true to all the things he said.

“You’re quiet.” he noticed.

“Yeah. Just coming down from the best orgasm I’ve had in a while,” you joked and he sighed.

“I might not see you, but I know that you’re lying.”

“Okay, it was the best orgasm I ever had.”

“Hermosa…”

“I don’t want to talk about it. Just let me enjoy the illusion of a handsome DEA Agent being interested in little ol’ me.”

“I’ll make sure you believe that it isn’t an illusion until we do see each other.”

Months went by and by now you were pretty sure you were in love with Javier Peña. The phone bill was taking dimensions you were almost guilty about, but Chucho only smiled not taking your money, telling you to make his boy happy. Safe to say he approved.

You had told him about your insecurities and Javier made sure to tell you every time you talked to each other that it didn’t matter how you looked. He told you that you could be green and he’d still go down on you the first time he would meet you.

And you wanted to believe him, you really did. You had told him how you looked after he tried to talk you into sending pictures of yourself “with or without clothes, I don’t care. Though you can guess what I prefer.” he had teased. Javier never made a secret about how much he liked you. Enjoyed talking to you. He told you he had stopped sleeping around for god’s sake. 

He was supposed to visit his father in a couple of weeks and the more time passed, the more nervous you became. You didn’t doubt that he meant every single word he said to you. It was years of being on the receiving end of jokes and being the ugly friend that automatically let you feel like you weren’t good enough.

The worst part was that you knew, deep down, that you were beautiful. You loved how you looked. But there still was this voice inside your head, telling you that you would never be good enough for anyone. That there was no way someone would ever fall in love with you.

It was a typical morning at work. You had your coffee and all the files you had to update. Javier had talked to you until you fell asleep, telling you that he felt like he was failing in taking Escobar down. He didn’t tell you much, not wanting you to worry or to risk someone listening, but you could tell that he was exhausted. “I fucked up, Hermosa. I really fucked up and I have no idea how to fix this,” were the words that he had whispered to you in the middle of the night. 

You didn’t ask what he meant, just telling him that you’d be there for him, no matter what.

Typing as usual you stopped as the song on the radio was, interrupted by a news report of a bombing in Bogota, Colombia. You knew that there were bombings all the time over there, and Javier always assured you that he was perfectly fine. But with how he was last night, you had a bad feeling.

“Fuck. When are they going to stop that shit over there? If I was there I’d caught Escobar years ago,” one of the officers said. You closed your eyes, breathing in deeply.

“Isn’t Chucho’s son over there pretty face?” The officer stopped in front of your desk and you opened your eyes.

“Yeah he is,” you said.

“Maybe if he would know how to do his job, shit like that wouldn’t go down like that,” he grinned and you wanted to stop, but your hand was faster. Slapping his cheek you got off your seat.

“And maybe if you would know how to use your dick your wife wouldn’t fuck your colleague over there, but you’ll never know, right?” You grinned, picking your purse and walking out.

“I’m taking today off.” You yelled over your shoulder as you walked to your car.

Javier didn’t pick up the phone. Which wasn’t what concerned you on the first day. He would have to deal with the shit that had happened over there. But when three days passed and you could see Chucho getting nervous as well you became restless. The ranch had never been so spotless. The horses had been fed in record time, and you took long rides along the river. If something had happened to him someone would have called, right? You couldn’t even reach his partner Murphy who you had talked to occasionally when Javier wasn’t at his desk. 

When a week passed and you hadn’t heard anything you were close to making your way to the airport to just fly down there. What if he died? What if he was gone and you hadn’t told him that you loved him? That you fell in love with a man you had never met before? Getting off the horse you sat down at the tree closest to the river. It was quiet here. This was the outer area of Chucho’s ranch, your favorite spot. You had joked about building a house here once when you were out with the old man and he had agreed that it would be the perfect spot. Sighing you drank from the bottle of water you brought.

Where the fuck are you Javier?

Another week went by without any sign of life from him. You had called the DEA office again but no one seemed to be able to give you an answer. You were growing restless. Working seemed to be the only thing that could get you off the spiraling thoughts of what if? You really had it bad for the man. Shaking your head to yourself you sighed as you parked your car on the usual spot in front of the ranch. Chucho’s truck was gone, he had a doctor's appointment to check on his hip and would meet his lady friend for dinner afterward. You had met her, Estella, once. She was a beautiful woman and Chucho seemed very happy with her. With a sad smile you killed the engine, getting out of the car. On your way to the house you groaned, turning around because you forgot your take out. You weren’t in the mood to cook and the pizza from that place that Javier had told you about was the best you had ever had. While you opened the passenger door of your car you heard the front door of the house open.

Shit. Burglars? You didn’t have anything on you, you could use as a gun. You knew you could probably make it to the horse stable to find something, but not in these fucking heels. Why did you wear these fucking heels? Maybe you could make them choke on the pizza? But then again you were looking forward to eating it. 

“Just take what you want, I won’t look.” You called over your shoulder, hoping to just be spared for the day. Closing your eyes you sighed when you were met with no reaction. You heard footsteps on the porch that stopped.

“Look, I’m really not in the mood for this bullshit today. So either take whatever the fuck you want or kill me….” you turned around and all the words died on your lips.

Standing there, leaning against the porch was no other than Javier fucking Peña. Alive. And looking even better than on the various pictures hanging in the house. He was bare feet, wearing tight jeans and a green shirt that was half undone. Opening your mouth to talk, all that came out was a gasp. He looked at you, his eyes mirroring the million emotions inside of you. Looking down at yourself you felt shy all of the sudden. This isn’t how you imagined meeting him for the first time. You wanted to be pretty. To wear some spanx. To have some make-up on. Closing your eyes you breathed in deep. You were happy to see him, you really were. But the ride of emotions you had gone through in the last couple of days took hold of you. Walking quickly towards him, you pushed against his chest, the air leaving his lungs in a puff.

“You fucking idiot. I thought you died.” You pushed him again.

“Do you have any idea how awful I felt since I heard the news of the bombing? You…” You pushed against his chest again, but this time he was faster, grabbing your wrists as he looked down at you. You felt the tears in your eyes as you finally looked up at him. Almost a year of phone calls and now he was standing here in front of you. Alive and warm. And smelling so fucking good.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, holding both of your wrists against his chest as he looked at you. 

“I should have called but I told you I fucked up. Badly. And I had to fix it and…” he shook his head. “It doesn’t matter now. I’m here and fuck… you’re even more beautiful than I pictured you,” he smiled a little.

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” You huffed, still annoyed.

“No?” he asked teasingly, smirking at you as he leaned down. You shook your head, biting your lip. God, you wanted to kiss him. 

“Can I at least try?” he asked, his lips brushing over your temple. You swallowed, shivering when you felt his cheek against yours. Fuck. Why did he smell so good?

“You may try, but I’m really, really mad at you Javier.”

You closed your eyes when he released your wrists and put one of his hands on your back to push you closer against him. He kissed your cheek before he straightened to his full height and looked down at you, his other hand coming to rest on your cheek.

“You’re really sexy when you’re angry,” he teased before he leaned down to kiss you. You melted against him, your hands running up his chest, holding on to the back of his neck as one hand ran through his hair, to pull him down. Kissing him didn’t come close to anything you could have imagined, his tongue parting your lips and you couldn’t help the moan against his lips. 

“Still angry?” he whispered out of breath against your lips.

“Slightly less angry,” you whispered back before you found yourself in his arms as he carried you into the house.

[arrowflier]

can you write a fic where they talk about having kids? maybe after the finale and mickey kinda starts the conversation 👀

It started slowly, and it started with Franny.

She had been staying over more often lately, Debbie taking night jobs again to make ends meet--though at least she was tending bar at a friend's place and not at risk of losing the rest of her toes this time. Debbie would bring Franny over after school and drop her at their door with a backpack full of clothes and crayons, staying just long enough to give her daughter a kiss and threaten Ian and Mickey with the same.

Sometimes Mickey pretended it annoyed him.

"What if we had plans, man?" he'd grumble as he helped Franny off with her coat and tucked her bag into the corner by the door.

"It's Wednesday, Mick," Ian would reply patiently. "We never go out on Wednesdays. Besides," he'd add as he ruffled Franny's hair and sent her ahead into the living room, "Debs asked us like two days ago."

"Didn't say goin' out kinds of plans," Mickey would mumble so Franny couldn't hear. "And she didn't ask, she fuckin' told."

Ian would just snort a laugh at his antics. "Please," he'd drawl, "you'll fall asleep with Fran on the couch by 10, you always do."

There would be no answer to that. Mickey would pout and grumble all day about it if he could, but as soon as their niece stepped through their doorway, it was all smiles and playful teasing and chasing each other through the apartment and down the hallways (much to the displeasure of their stuffier neighbors).

Ian loved watching them. For all of Mickey's insistence that he wasn't ready, or that he'd make a terrible father, he certainly did right by the children already in his life. And when you spent all day playing with a child, feeding them, bathing and dressing them and reading them to sleep, well. It wasn't that different from having one of your own. Not that he would ever say that to Mickey, though. He knew better now than to push.

So it was a surprise when, a few weeks into this new arrangement, Mickey brought it up on his own, albeit in his own, Mickey way.

"We gotta get a bigger place," he mused one morning as they brushed against each other in the narrow kitchen.

Why?” Ian asked, curious. “It’s just us, and we've been doing fine so far. Unless…,” he paused, turning from the open refrigerator to eye Mickey cautiously. “Unless you need some space...?”

Mickey rolled his eyes, and brushed past again roughly enough to knock into Ian's shoulder with his own.

“No, Ian, I don’t need fuckin’ space, jesus,” he answered. “But we need another bedroom." To Ian's confused look, he expanded on the thought. "Franny sleeps here all the time, man, think it’s time she gets an upgrade from the sofa, that’s all."

Oh. That made sense. Ian hid a smile as he ducked his head back into the fridge, pretending to search for the eggs that were right there on the shelf.

"Sure Mick," he agreed. "The lease is up soon, we can start looking for a two bedroom."

It's quiet behind him, and he pulls back just in time to catch Mickey biting his lip nervously, though the other man doesn't see.

“And maybe we can fit a couple beds in there," Mickey said casually, betrayed only by a slight hitch in his breath and the way his eyes darted everywhere but Ian's face. "Just in case.”

Just in case. Ian's heart soared.

"Good idea," he forced himself to say in a normal voice. He didn't want to scare this idea away. He knew by the way Mickey looked at him that he hadn't quite managed the nonchalant tone he was going for, but that was okay. They could both pretend it was no big deal.

--

They didn't talk about it for a while after that. Not until Lip started bringing Fred around.

"You sure your girl is okay with this?" Mickey asked the first time, holding the kid away from him like he was a ticking bomb.

Lip just chuckled. "Are you kidding?" he asked. "This was her idea, Milkovich, you can't get out of uncle duties that easy."

Mickey looked offended at that, automatically bringing Fred closer to his chest and putting a protective hand on his back.

Ian stepped in before he could say anything too brash.

"We're just surprised, that's all," he told his brother. "Tami doesn't usually let Fred out of her sight."

Lip shrugged, then clapped Ian on the back, squeezing the back of this neck once before letting go. "She sees how good you guys are with Franny, and we need a break, man," he admitted. "Besides, she thinks Mickey here is some sort of kindred spirit."

They both raise their eyebrows at him until he explains.

"You know, willingly joining the Gallagher crazy and all," he said, only half joking. "If only she knew what an upgrade it was for this one," he added with a nod to Mickey, darting out the door before they can do anything about it.

"Diapers are in the bag," he shouted back to them, "try not to kill my kid!"

Ian and Mickey stared at each other after closing the door behind him, the stared at Fred, who had settled his head against Mickey's shoulder and was staring up at him with soft, sleepy eyes.

"Well," Mickey said slowly. "What the fuck do we do now?"

--

As it turned out, Mickey was great with babies, too. Of course he was.

They had Freddie in the bath after he had ruined his last diaper, Mickey keeping him safely propped up while Ian scrubbed him down. Neither of them mentioned the last time they had done this, but they both remembered the drill.

"Kids are fuckin' nasty," Mickey said, wrinkling his nose as Ian washed away the last of the mess.

"You're fucking nasty," Ian retorted, and then they were splashing each other with the dirty bathwater until a wave of it got Mickey in the face.

He sputtered, trying to grab for something to wipe it off without letting go of Fred, who was watching them and giggling.

"You asshole," Mickey growled, "you know where that's been, jesus Ian!"

Ian laughed at him, but stood and fetched a clean washcloth. He threw it at Mickey, then grabbed Fred out of the water and bundled him into their fluffiest towel, leaving Mickey muttering curses behind them as they move out to the bedroom.

Later that night, with Fred sleeping quietly next to them in his worn pack'n play, Mickey brought it up again.

"Don't they make, like, little kid bath things?" he questioned in the darkness. "We should get one of those, make things easier."

Ian rolled over to face him. "Yeah," he said slowly, "but Fred will be too big for that soon anyway."

He could feel the sheets shift when Mickey shrugged. "Should get one anyway," he said. "Might come in handy."

Ian didn't answer for a long moment, then answered with a simple, "okay."

He fell asleep smiling that night.

--

Things finally came to a head a few months later, when Ian got home to find a brochure on the table.

A brochure for an adoption agency.

He stared at it. Grabbed a beer out of the fridge, took a long sip. Stared at it some more.

He was still standing there when Mickey came in from the bedroom, and stopped still for just a second before continuing toward the fridge.

"Hey," Mickey said as he grabbed his own beer. "What are you thinkin'?"

Ian just looked at him.

"About that," Mickey clarified, motioning toward the pamphlet with the bottom of his bottle. "The adoption thing."

Ian swallowed hard, and took another drink before answering.

"Not thinking much yet," he admitted. "But I'm wondering where it came from."

Mickey rubbed at his eyebrow with the thumb of his free hand, not looking at Ian as he answered.

"Got it from some lady a few doors down," he revealed. "Said they're lookin' for more couples to step up."

"We wouldn't qualify," Ian managed to say past the lump in his throat. "Two ex-cons, gay, self-employed?" He forced an awkward laugh. "We're like a nightmare for those places."

He wasn't sure what he expected from that, but it wasn't for Mickey to come closer, setting down his beer to wrap and arm around Ian's back.

"Hey," he said softly, shaking Ian a little. "It don't gotta be adoption, man, just..." he hesitated, but pushed on, "been thinkin' about it, you know?"

That made Ian smile. "Yeah, I know," he admitted. "You're not as subtle as you think."

He turned in Mickey's half-embrace, leaning a hip against the table and bringing his own arm up so he could tease the hair at the back of Mickey's neck.

"You sure you're ready for this, Milkovich?" he whispered, hand moving to cup Mickey's face, thumb stroking at his cheek.

Mickey smiled back, leaning closer. "Damn straight, Gallagher," he murmured just before their lips brushed. "Damn straight."

[xo-cuteplosion-xo]

Hey there author! Could you maybe do headcannons for being stuck in a locked/stuck in a room with Dazai, chuuya, akutagawa, and fyodor. Individually or as a group?

 Okay, so I'll do both, all together, then individually. Not sure if you wanted relationships anon, so I did give them relationship stuff in the individuals.

Let’s be realistic. Being stuck in a room with all four of those boys… you're asking for trouble XD.

First, there is going to be a lot of glaring and attempts to kill each other. If somebody (most likely you) doesn't step in then somebody is dying or at least getting severely injured.

Akutagawa is going to try and prove himself to Dazai. So he’ll either attack you or him. (why not Fyodor? Akutagawa isn’t a dumb-ass, that's why. He knows he’d probably end up dead. Though if it came down to it he’d probably end up attacking him just for the hell of it.)

Dazai will just sit back and watch. Don’t worry he’s already thinking and predicting things. 

Of course, there is Chuuya… he’s shouting and annoying the brunette but it isn't anything he’s not used to.

If you're in the ADA, Dazai's ready to step in and help you. The same could be said if you were in the Mafia. Though, it wouldn’t be his priority. If you're with Fyodor… yeah he’ll just leave Akutagawa to deal with you.

Chuuya would ignore you unless you were in the mafia.  In that case, he’d move from being an angry bomb with Dazai to an angry dog trying to keep Akutagawa from killing his comrade. He’d stay clear of Fyodor.

Akutagawa doesn't care. He’ll attack you for the hell of it. If you're part of the mafia, I'm sure you’d find a way to piss him off.

Once the arguing ends and the two highly intelligent males *cough* Fyodor and Dazai. *cough* will be figuring how to get away from their situation.

Don’t even bother trying to help. Fyodor will A- kill you or, B- completely ignore you. Dazai’s just gonna ignore you.

The solving problems come only after Chuuya's already attempted to kick down a wall with his gravity manipulation. Might as well add Akutagawa using Rashoumon to help him. If that doesn't work, they will silently rely on Dazai and Fyodor to stop their mental war of glaring, and snarling at one another.

If you all manage to get out alive, it will be one of those 'everybody goes separate ways' situations. You know you’ll all share that “this never happened" look.

Dazai-

Oh lord, stuck alone with Dazai.

He’d be his usual self. Ask for a double suicide, flirt, then get to work.

If you got unlucky he’d be in one of the “just wait till Kunikida comes to unlock the door.” 

If you happen to be with Dazai at the time, he'll take the time to either hold you close, or get a little on the intimate side.

I can imagine Dazai sitting there brushing his hand through your hair before kissing you softly. It would be silent but the privacy of being locked in the room would be nice.

He may talk here and there while you two wait to be rescued, but he’d be quiet most of the time. Either trying to figure out how to get out or just lost in his thoughts.

If you started to get tired or cold, he'd do whatever he could to make sure you were both safe and doing alright.

When somebody does show to unlock the door of the room, Dazai will carry you out of there. He doesn't care if you can stand or if you're conscious. He’s going to carry you out of there.

If nobody comes and you start to show signs of discomfort, he'll stop lazing around and solve his way out of the room. When he finds the way out, he'll take you with him.

Chuuya

Loud

That room is going to be filled with indescribable cursing and shouts of frustrated anger.

Once he’s done being pissed at himself, or whoever got you two in this situation, he'll start trying to get out. Looking for windows to shatter or weak points in the steel walls. He’ll use his ability to. When that doesn't work he’ll pout

Yes, Chuuya will pout like an adult child. He’ll storm over to the wall and just kick it over and over.

You’ll have to pull him away.

He’ll grumble about how useless this situation is and how annoying it all is.

He won’t admit it, but he doesn't mind being stuck there with you. (tsundere Chuuya)

He will not let you out of his sight.

If you don’t know the reason behind being locked in here, he fears somebody may hurt you.

If after you’ve both sat there trying to figure this out, neither of you have a solution. You’ll have to be the one to toss the towel. That means grabbing your phone to request backup. 

Chuuya will try to prevent this, he’ll never hear the end of it from the others when they find out about this.

While you wait, he'll be the one to fall asleep. Be prepared to take pictures, he’s an adorable sleeper!

If you chose to lay down, take the opportunity to lay your head on his chest. You may find he self-consciously wraps his arms around you.

Don’t get too embarrassed though.

When help arrives be prepared for the snickers… if it’s Dazai who shows up. He’ll be quiet enough, so he gets photos. Oh, and you two will never hear the end of this incident.

Akutagawa

He’ll just stand there dumbfounded for a bit.

You’ll have to gather the courage to tap his shoulder and point out the obvious

He may attack you so be careful

If he likes you, he might click his tongue and keep his distance. 

He’s going to be silent… mostly

He’ll start attacking the walls with Rashoumon.

When that doesn't work he’ll look to you for help. Of course, he won’t say he needed help. He won’t admit to any form of weakness.

When all else fails. He’ll sit down only to act like he knows what he’s doing. 

It may be awhile before he looks at you, clicks his tongue, and grumbles for you to sit with him.

You'd sit down tense, but he’d act as if you weren't there even if he was paying attention to you.

If you happened to fall asleep and fall to his shoulder, he isn’t going to move a muscle.

He’ll internally panic unsure of what to do. 

Eventually, he’ll wrap you in Rashoumon to keep you from getting cold.

He’d call one of his underlings for help. Most likely Higuchi.

The look on her face when she realizes how close you got to Akutagawa would set her off.

That woman is going to be glaring at you for months. 

Fyodor- Disclaimer… I’m not very good with his character

If you're not a part of the decay of angels/rats in the house of the dead… let’s just say you may not find yourself walking out of here alive. That is to say, if you're not with Fyodor.

If you happen to be his s/o he’ll keep you tied to him. Literally and figuratively.

He refuses to let you form his sight. Every movement you make is tracked. His mind is working to predict what’s going on as well as solve his way out of here. If he finds a way that only gets one person out, he'll ignore it. After all, he wants to get both of you out. He refuses to be stuck alone without an eye on you. In case on the outside, somebody is waiting.

He has a lot of enemies, so if this wasn’t done by one of his own he’s going to be extra careful. He’s calm and collected even if you start to panic. He’ll make sure to calm you down.

When he does find a way out… the person who made you panic and distressed as well as take his valuable time from him isn’t going to have a good day.

Expect a blood bath.

If it were one his own trying to get you two together… he’ll glare at them, but he’d be lenient.

Despite his cold look, he can be a bit obsessive with things he holds dear. That’s why he’d hurt whoever did it despite nothing serious happening.

If you did get injured… it will be utter devastation. We're talking not just one murder but several. Anybody who dared to put you in that situation.

Hope this was okay

[sinnamonrolle]

[ the little moments] ♡ Asmodeus

3 - That moment when Asmodeus cheered you up.

✿ part of a series now! ✿

❀  gender neutral reader  ❀

Asmo hummed as he opened a drawer, browsing through his huge selection of high quality nail polish. From where you’re sitting on his bed, you could barely see into it. You noticed that they’re organized by color. 

“Hmm, what color should I pick?” he asked and turned to look at you, eyes squinting just the slightest bit as he tapped his lips in thought.

You smiled the best you could, criss-crossing your legs, and responded, “I trust your choices, Asmo. You’re the expert here, not me.” 

He smiled back at you, lips curling sweetly around the edges, and he returned to the selection before him.

“I’m glad you trust me, darling! Your nails will be so beautiful after I’m done, just you wait! It'll cheer you right up!” Asmo said, spinning around to wink at you as he bumped the drawer with his hips.

It slid shut, and he showed you the four bottles in his hands. One of them wasn't nail polish but an assortment of small charms, the same ones that decorated his nails.

"Does my master approve?" Asmo asked. "I wanted something that will match well with anything you decide to wear, but what matters is if you like it."

You were too upset to really care about the color at the moment, so you hummed noncommittally and said, "Yeah, it's fine."

Asmo lowered the nail polishes in his hands and set them to the side, the glass bottles clinking as they're pushed aside. He kneeled in front of you and took your face between his hands, his palms warm with his natural body heat.

"My love," he said, and for once, his tone wasn't as flamoyant as it used to be, but it was so soft, so gentle with love that you couldn't help but follow his words. "Look at me."

You looked at him. He's looking at you, and all you could see was his beautiful orange eyes with the barest hint of yellow around the edges. All you could see was the brown lashes that fluttered out as he blinked. All you could see was the way his neat eyebrows furrowed in concern.

"I understand that you are upset about the test. You've been so stressed that your skin has gotten rough, and the lack of sleep made it even worse," he started off, but not in an unkind way, and gently swiped the skin under your eye with a thumb. "Lucifer may have high expectations for you, but that is under the conditions that you are alive, healthy, and happy. Remember—alive, healthy, and happy."

"But this was an important test," you said sourly, lips curling into a frown. All of the stress from taking the test, the frustrations from studying the topics, the hopeless sensation after you recieved the score—they all seemed to crumble from the weight on your shoulders and revealed themselves in the form of your rapidly blurring eyes. "It was a really important test that could pull my grade up, but I screwed up. I bombed it. I failed."

Asmo's hands fell from your face to hold your hands in his and said, "My love, you know we didn't bring you here only for you to worry about tests and school. After the school year is over, what use will be your grades?" He chuckled then, interwining his fingers with yours, and added on, "Five months from now, you'll be shopping with me, picking out some new clothes from Majolish. Ten months from now, we'll be drunk on alcohol and watching movies together with my brothers. A year from now, you won't be thinking about this bad test score that you got today."

You looked down to your interwined hands and didn't speak. You knew that one number wouldn't matter later on in your life, you knew that. But it was the fact that you spent so much time studying, that you put in 110% of yourself yet still received bad results, that you tried so hard yet still failed—you sighed and released one of Asmo's hand to rub at your eye, the rough heel of it digging into your slightly wet eyelids. You were really, really upset at yourself. There was the underlying insecurity that came with being not good enough, and while usually, you tend to push it out of your mind, today, you couldn't. Today, you felt so small.

"Darling," Asmo murmured and stood up to wrap you into his arms, his warmth welcoming as it enveloped you. You felt his arms across your back, the flat of his palm pressed firmly against your spine, and all of your senses were invaded by Asmo. The smell of him, the sight of him, the feel of him. He smelled faintly of honey and lavender.

With his chin resting on the top of your head, you were completely buried into his arms. Your hands gripped onto the sides of his jacket.

"Darling," Asmo said again, but this time, his voice is just a bit warmer, just a bit softer, just a bit fonder. "Let me treat you to your hard work. It doesn't matter if you didn't do well, but it matters, especially to me, that your efforts are acknowledged. Today, it might not be so good, but it can only get better from here. We all have these days. One time, I went to a party with this tuft of hair sticking out the back of my head, and no one told me! Can you believe that? I dolled myself up so well, but that one tuft of bedhair—!"

You snickered softly into his jacket, but he heard you anyway and gave you a gentle squeeze.

"Let me take care of you today, my love," Asmo said, pulling just enough from you so that he could see your face. He smiled and kissed your forehead, purposely making a loud "smooch!" sound before he faced you again. "Pretty please? Will you let me take care of you? I've already planned the whole day out! See, I'll do your nails first, and then we'll get some masks on. After that, we'll strip and soak in the bath together! I've already decided on the essential oils we'll be using, but I need your help choosing which soap to use because they're all just so good! We can spend our evening online shopping, and then, perhaps, maybe you might be interested in some very fun nightly activities?" He sent you a wink.

You went back into his embrace, face buried in his scarf. "Of course, Asmo. Thank you so much. I really appreciate you," you said with every inch of your being.

If it was a regular day, Asmo might have commented on how happy he was that you were so willing to jump into his arms, but today—today, he only laughed, a sound that warmed your heart from the bottom up, a sound that you will cherish forever, a sound only for your ears.

"Anything for you, my love. You deserve only the best," he said as you pulled away from the hug, not as upset as you were before Asmo called you into his room. He beamed at you, his eyes curling into lovely crescents and his lips stretching into a beautiful smile.

You smiled back. It didn't hurt as much anymore. You were still dismayed by the test score, but the reality of it wasn't as crushing. It felt like the fog lifted from your head.

"I like the color you chose," you said then.

Amso blinked in momentary surprise before huffing proudly, "Of course you do!"

He was reaching for the nail polish sitting to the side, picking up the base coat, when you spoke again.

"It reminds me of you."

Asmo whipped his head to you, eyes wide, lips slightly parted, and a light flush to his cheeks.

What a lovely sight.

This moment might have been an insignificant one in all of the moments that Asmo has experienced in his lengthy life, but you won't ever forget the feeling of love lingering on your skin—his love.

-------

Masterlist!

[alittlelove4u]

living with Atsumu headcanon

warnings: none. It’s just pure fluff and domestic

note: should I do more of these?

masterlist

Atsumu just loves the fact that you actually wanted to move together. He spend most of his time at your place anyway and finding an apartment was the best solution.

You spend so many hours at IKEA looking for furniture. Everything has to fit together and be the same aesthetic.

Your kitchen is open towards your living room and it has a small island. The two of you often cook together and he loves it to sit on the kitchenette and watch you. Whenever he’s cooking, you’re not allowed to touch anything or help him because he wants to spoil you. But if you look at him with your puppy eyes he’ll let you taste it. On weekdays, when you have to go to work, you’ll just sit on the kitchenette, drink your morning coffee/tea and listen to the radio, while he’s standing between your legs. Still with his morning voice and half closed eyes, hell tell you that he loves you and kiss you softly.

Mornings with Atsumu are pretty quiet. He has to wake up pretty early and he hates that. If you have wake up at the same time, he’ll probably wake up earlier and get ready so you can take your time in the bathroom. By the time you’re ready, he already made coffee and packed his trainings bag. He also insists that you eat in the morning because it’s important, even if it’s just toast and an apple. Every morning he’ll compliment you about your outfit or appearance in general. Even if you just put on a shit and jeans, he thinks you’re the most beautiful person on planet earth. ,,You look beautiful today, Babe.“ ,,This outfit makes you look even prettier.“ If you have some kind of meeting or presentation, he‘ll definitely cover your face with kisses until you crack a smile.

Most of the time Atsumu comes back home earlier than you. He’ll drop his bag by the door and fall into the couch. He really tries to stay awake at least for a bit, so he can tidy up the apartment, but sometimes he’s just too tired from training. However he’ll text you, when he comes home, no matter how tired he is. ,,I know you miss your beautiful boyfriend, but don’t forget too drink water and eat something. Love you!“ If you’re still at work after he wakes up from his nap, he’ll tidy up the place a bit and cook something.

While you were looking for an apartment m, he insisted on a balcony. He loves it, when the living room is floated by the evening sun. He especially loves it when the two of you are chilling on the couch on a lazy sunday afternoon and the sun kisses your face. He will cover your face with kisses until you giggle and tell you how much he loves you.

Before a big game he’ll probably spend most of the night on the balcony because he’s nervous. You’d wake up in an empty bed and find him sitting on the balcony without a shit. Yes he sleeps without a shirt. You have to convince him to come back to bed and if you lay on his chest and tell him, that he’s in fact a great player, he might actually fall asleep.

Whenever one of you has a bad day you take a bath together. You have about 10 different bath bombs, a playlist and he definitely bought a yellow duck. If you had a rough day, Atsumu will massage your shoulders while you talk about it. He also appreciates it when you massage him after a hard game. He’ll melt under your fingers, if you run your fingers through his hair.

There are probably a hundert pictures hanging around your place. The two of you. Your friends, your families, his old high school team, he and Osamu. You also hung up every postcard he sends, when he’s playing somewhere else.

His fans often gift him plushies and they are all over your place.

Atsumu wanted LED lights in your bedroom and a mirror over your bed.

If he wants your attention, he’ll play the weirdest songs until you give up and cuddle.

The two of you break at least one glass or plate a month because you’re so chaotic.

One morning he forgot to close the balcony and when you came home a bird was sitting on your couch table.

You always argue who has to vacuum or do the laundry. Usually you throw a coin.

If you’re afraid to kill the spider/bug and ask him to do it, he’ll make fun of you but a couple of minutes later he’ll scream because he’s just as afraid as you.

Once Osamu visited, too teach him how to make onigiri and they started arguing and throwing rice at each other.

[neovisioned]

♡ꜜ eddie ate dynamite﹫johnny suh

fangs - matt champion PLAYLIST

pairing : johnny x reader (f), feat. ten as johnny’s best friend and roommate and jaehyun as your college friend. 

genre : fluff, another case of smut with too much plot, pianist!johnny, guitarist!reader, college!au, neighbour!au, strangers to friends to lovers, warnings : ten being a cockblock, it’s overall really cute. heavy making out, grinding, marking, slight choking, slight thigh riding, mutual masturbation, slight panty kink and menhandling, oral, penetration. word count : +22k synopsis : where you never really tried to make friends with your neighbours. after all, most of them – if not all – are families that would not have much time to talk to a college student. you don’t mind, you’d rather spend some time with your guitar. but your new young neighbour doesn’t seem as anti-social as you are, it’s eleven past meridiem when someone airdrops a tab sheet on your computer, you play it. a/n : i got this idea while i was showering just after i ordered my electric guitar, i also felt like shit so figured writing about my ult would cheer me up.

Calm and clean streets, pretty cherry trees dotted in red, small park filled with multicolor flowers, you remember the day you moved in your neighborhood like it was yesterday. You don’t say it much, but you love everything about your district. Yes, it might be mostly – if not totally – filled with small families and couples in their thirties, and they usually don’t have much to tell you, you still love the tranquility.

No college students being obnoxiously loud, no parties every week, no gatherings of wannabe frats.

You have to say, you got lucky. The small – but convenient and comfortable – apartment you’re ranting is what you could call a “perle rare”, a gem.

After searching and searching for anything that could fit a college student and it’s budget, you found this very building, freshly built. Only fifteen minutes away from the city center, exactly seventeen minutes away from your university, you couldn’t really believe your eyes, you even thought it was a scam at first. A more than decently sized apartment at the second to last floor, elevators, almost soundproof walls, balcony, big windows facing south, you couldn’t ask for more.

Even better, the owner was a family friend, a deal that made everyone happy was quickly made and, a few days after your twenty-first birthday, you moved in.

It was a bit more than a year ago and you have to say, you quickly made yourself at home, you didn’t mind leaving alone either. Besides, you had friends over a few times a month, and your family didn’t hesitate to visit without any notice.

Ah, and, a few days after moving in, you found this very cute and cosy coffee shop down the street. Oh, how you got addicted to their éclair au chocolat and their croissant. You’re a regular there, now, and the short brunette girl at the register still makes fun of you for your pronunciation. They also make a pretty good iced vanilla coffee, one you’re drinking this very moment, hands turning cold over the transparent plastic.

“Y/N, hey ! I have something for you !”, a voice you quickly grew familiar to sings the moment your badge opens the front door to your building. Sun Sangkyu, building H7’s concierge, doesn’t even wait for the glass door to close behind you to stand up from his chair, searching for the said “something”.

He’s a balding man, you’d say he’s around sixty-something years old. He agreed to work at the desk for good money despite his age, you remember him saying he loves it, it distracts him for the day while his wife volunteers with kids in a less wealthy area. Sangkyu wears big glasses that often fall down the bridge of his nose, eyes half moons whenever he smiles with his little diastema.

“Ah-a, I know what it is !”, you match his tone almost perfectly, a smile stretching your lips. Walking a bit closer to the men’s cubicle, one he customized so much it contrasts with the minimalist style of the entrance.

Red banner for the Chinese New Year, you’re surprised he did not take it down sooner. Next to it, he has multiple drawings from the kids in the building, pictures of him, his wife and kids.

“There it is. Such a tiny box, what did you order ?”, he asks, and the middle aged men doesn’t hesitate to shake the box a little, bringing it to his ear. He’s a bit too curious for his own good, but you don’t mind, it’s funny.

“Guitar picks.”, you tell him with a laugh once he lets the cardboard box fall into your waiting hands.

At that, he frowns.

Small pout on his thin lips, his dark brown eyes shift to the left as he tried and search in his memory.

“But…What about the ones you brought last winter ?”, he asks carefully, almost like he’s scared of not recalling things well. But, after all, you were the only guitarist in the building.

“I…lost them…”, you answer after a few seconds of silence, like a child admitting they misplaced something to their father.

“Ya…”, his instinct kick in with the noise escaping his face, slightly rolling his eyes, drawing out the last letter. “Anyways, I have something else for you.”, he looks at something on the floor, probably where he left his leather bag.

“But, I didn’t or-.”

“My wife made some yesterday !”, he cuts you abruptly, wide toothy smile as he slides a paper bag. And, oh, you already know what they hold by the smell alone. Baozi, steamed stuffed buns Sangkyu’s wife can make like a real master, your mouth salivates with the thought alone.

“Oh, bless her.”, a sigh tumbles from your lips, clenching the small bag against your chest. As you open your mouth to thank him, the slight buzz of the door opening catches your attention. You notice a rather tall men pushing the door with his back, strong arms holding boxes.

“Thank you very much, Sangkyu. Have a nice day !” You conclude with a smile, nodding as the oldest returns the gesture, face already towards the unknown men.

You don’t pay much attention, quickly walking towards the elevator with your two precious items in hand. Your index taps the code and your floor number like a mechanism and, just before the metallic doors close, you catch the unknown men sighing, “One more box and we’re done, Mister Suh !” Ehm, the apartment on the second floor probably found a new owner, you think at first, the thought brushed away in a second.

The ride to your floor is a quick one, your full attention on the small box in your hand, one you’re trying to open as best as you can. But you quickly find hard to rip the thick duct tape with your left hand occupied with the wrapped food.

“Oh, fuck !”

What was meant to happen, happened. As the feminine yet weirdly robotic voice announces your floor with a “Floor number nine, floor number nine.”, you drop the small box. The cardboard hits the floor with a small sound, laying lifeless a few centimeters away from your shoes. Great, that will teach you. Leaning down, you pick the box up with a sigh, straightening your back as the grey metallic doors open in front of you, left wrist twisting to let your digits wrap around your keys. And it’s your turn to frown. Eyebrows furrowed, you take a step forward, taking your body out of the elevator before the doors close and head down again.

Boxes, boxes everywhere. Your door’s on the left, body naturally facing your apartment but your eyes can not help but look at the overwhelming amount of…stuff laying there. Probably a dozen cardboard boxes in the hallway, the door’s open to the empty apartment if it’s not for all the wrapped furniture in the entrance. Uh, so it’s not the second floor. You have to say, you’re a bit surprised. When you moved in, you remember this very apartment being owned by a middle-aged woman, the fake blonde told you about the three other places she owned and ranted all year around. Be it to travelers, students, young adults. Someone ranted it for two months at best, before moving out, you don’t even remember their faces, to be honest. You never asked why it was always empty, you just figured the area was more appealing to families that would rather buy their own place rather than rant it for god knows how much.

Well, seems like you have a new neighbor. Maybe, just maybe, you’ll introduce yourself later, once they’ll be done with moving in. Let’s be real, you’re not Bree Van de Kamp from Desperate Housewives but, you were well raised. Ah, and, you should probably tell them about your habit of playing the guitar a bit too late at night, you think as you finally take your attention off the open apartment and go for your own. Everything might be pretty well isolated, you don’t want to risk starting beef with people you barely know leaving right next to you.

Plus, who knows, maybe they’re nice.

Knife stabs the duct tape, the brown layer easily ripping under the sharp object. Comfortably sat on your bed, you quickly tear the cardboard with your hands, leaving the packaging on the floor of your bedroom, neatly leaving the small bag of picks you ordered on your white sheet.

It’s around ten and a half post meridiem when you finally get around opening your order. College life is one you knew would be busy, but seventeen years old you never knew you’d spend hours on an essay’s introduction. But thank god, you finished a good chunk of your assignment, showered, ate and now, it’s time for a bit of relaxation.

It’s sort of a ritual for you, a way to reward yourself after a productive day. You take a long shower or a good bath – it depends on the bath bombs you have in stock –, you eat a good, hot meal and get to your room for some alone time with none other than your beloved guitar.

The sun’s already set, the streets’ lights filling your bedroom. And, that’s when you notice the dim light coming from the room right on front of you. The layout of every apartment being identical, you know it’s another bedroom, few meters away from your own. It’s a bad habit you developed after your old neighbor left, you’d pull your curtains to the side and eventually took them out, they clashed with your room’s aesthetic anyways. After all, if no one was leaving there, you would let your window wide open for a bit more light.

You figure you should maybe go and find where you stacked them and get ready to struggle for an hour before eventually, putting them up again. But for now, you don’t mind, if your new neighbor actually pulls his curtains to look outside, all they will be able to see’s your light purple colored walls, paintings and pictures, your overly packed schedule stuck right on top of your desk.

You don’t let your mind wonder too much, after quickly opening the thin packaging, you let the small plastic picks fall on your bed. Medium sized, you choose the color you like the best, abstract design in red, black and white. Now that you think about it, you really don’t know where the six other ones disappeared, you even used to keep the last one in your phone case.

Digits wrap around the slender neck of your electric guitar, picking it up from the stand it rested on for a few days now, instrument easily finding its place on your lap. Ah, how you love the feeling of the smooth material under your fingertips, left hand on the body to keep it from falling as you lean forward. The Jack cable you left laying there a few days ago moved a bit, hiding under your bed but you’re quick to grab it, plugging it where it belongs. A flick of the wrist, you turn on your amplifier, turning a few settings. Now that you have neighbors, maybe you should turn the volume a bit down. Until now, you could play as loudly as you wanted thank to the building’s isolation and a few other…reasons. The men living right above you was a bit older than Sangkyu, and he had a few hearing problems, plus he didn’t mind the music at all even if he heard it a bit, when your window was opened. The women leaving right under you is in her mid-thirties, a nurse that had a working schedule you cannot wrap your head around. One thing you know, she’s never there from nine post meridiem to some ungodly hour in the morning.

You’ll talk to your new neighbors tomorrow anyways, brushing the thought off as you place the strap on your shoulder.

“Eddie ate dynamite.”, you mumble under your breath, pick plucking at the three top strings. In tune, great. “Good bye Eddie.”, the three last strings are slightly out of tune, but your quickly arrange that with a few twists. Right hand flat on the six strings, you stand up from your bed, walking to your desk with a few steps. You had left a tab sheet open on your devise before going for your bath, screen lighting up as you open it. It’s a song you practiced once a few weeks back before forgetting about it. Bold, black letters, “Fangs – Matt Champion”.

Eyes scanning the numbers, your fingers quickly find the strings without you needing to even look at your guitar’s neck. Your body follows quickly, shoulders and head moving at the rhythm, it’s a chill tune you can warm your fingers up to. It’s a moment you adore, when your entire building’s silent, fresh breeze of the early summer sneaking into your room, multicolor lights flashing in your bedroom (tiktok made you buy them). Tones and sounds of stings being pulled fill your room, it’s no hard for you to remember the notes at the end, eyes closing as you finish the song.

A good song to start on, you think before opening your eyes and…?

“What’s that ?”, you ask out loud, eyes squinting at the window that opened itself on your screen. Apparently, someone’s trying to airdrop something. It’s probably a mistake, you think at first. A weird mistake, for sure, your laptop clearly had your name on it. Your index finger’s about to decline the request before you take a look at the actual picture sent. Is that…A tab sheet ? Your eyebrows furrow a bit more. Clearly, this was not a mistake. Eye travel to the window, could it be ? Your neighbor’s room is now lit up, but you can’t make anything up in it, unconsciously waiting for a head to pop-up. But hélas, no movement comes from the other side. It could come from anyone, but you doubt

“The Less I know The Better – Tame Impala”.

Ah, you’re not a stranger to the song, you have it in multiple playlists, but you never took the time to look at the tabs. At least the person has some good taste. It’s a weird situation for sure, is this…a request ?

Unconsciously, your fingertips press on the right strings. Eh, might as well try it, right ? Tune familiar, you go through the intro easily, though maybe you should’ve taken something to loop the sound. Irises focused on your screen, you try your best not to mess up, eyes sometimes traveling from your computer to the neck of your guitar. Brown polished wood glow under the purple light, it softly transitions to blue, green, and you stop after the chorus.

Maybe you’ll keep the sheet.

Cold morning breeze, sounds of a city waking up. Birds singing a bit too loudly, a few cars driving by, chatter from families and young adults all around, voices muted by how high you’re apartment is.

You follow along, body turning in your bed, though maybe in a less graceful way, softly shaking the sleep out.

You changed your sheet right before going to sleep, after playing a few other songs, flowery fragrance comforting, nose deep into the soft fabric. You almost think about not leaving your bed but hélas, you have some classes to attend today.

At least, they’re starting a bit late. Sleepy eyes shift to your clock, the very one that woke you up, nine ante meridiem, you have an hour to get ready, that should be enough.

Another bad habit, your hand grabs your phone as you roll over to your side, cheek squished on your pillow, one eye closed. Maybe you should not do that, apparently the second eye's vision can and will go down if you do this too much. You have an appointment soon anyways, working on your computer all day long got your eyes dry.

Checking mails, social media, texts, you tour your phone before finally stepping out of bed.

Music theory class, multiple hours of it. But, at least, it didn’t end late at all, today was your only free day. But again, depends on what is your vision of freedom, you'll probably end up at the bakery slash coffee shop down the street to study a bit more.

Arms stretching above your head, your lips part in a yawn you quickly hide behind your hand. Fuck, you probably slept on your arm, shoulder aching under your fingertips massaging the muscle.

Walking around your bed, you take a few steps, dragging your feet on your floor towards your window. You needed a bit of fresh air before anything else.

The weather's pretty good today, you note as you fully step in front of your window, skin gratefully taking in the sunlight, a few white clouds here and there in the sky but nothing to complain about. The sun seems to already be heating the air up, maybe you can go for a light coat today, or a thick top alone.

Naturally, your eyes fall straight forward, to the very window you were looking at the night before.

Curtains pulled to the side, your curiosity gets poked, maybe you can have a quick look at the room, right ?

It looks empty anyways, you think at first, but it seems the universe wants to annoy you a bit today. Just as you're about to detail the room opposite to yours, a figure walks in.

His shadow is the first thing you see, stretching on the beige painted walls of the room before he eventually steps in front of his window as well.

Fortunately for your dignity, the men has his back turned but how... Broad do they look, even from a distance.

You have no idea why, but you're stuck there, one side of your brain telling you to leave before you get caught and inevitably get label as the creepy neighbor while the other whispers that you might want to see the strangers' face.

Shoulder blades move against the tanned skin, hands quickly run in his honey colored locks, pushing them back, it seems your neighbor's getting ready too.

That's when you realize your hand's still gripping your window's handle, right hand falling to your side, you really should go and get ready too but... You wonder, is he the one that sent you the tab sheet yesterday ? Wouldn't you want to put a face a the music taste ?

As you're about to take a step back, the men turns slightly, applying what you can only assume is cream to his face, digits running down his jawline as he angles his head as desired. And oh, the one second long glimpse you get at his profile is enough to make your lips part.

Shiny locks falling in front of his eyes, straight nose, full lips, sharp jawline, a curse almost falls down from your lips. You'd think anyone would find the guy attractive from the small peak you just got but... Isn't this a bit... Weird ? You suddenly feel like a whole voyeur, your eyes detaching from the stranger as your morals kick in.

He doesn't look like a father, or maybe he's very young father ? But again, you didn't see anything for a baby yesterday, nor did you hear one crying yesterday night...

Maybe he moved in here with his significant other, even though young couple usually go for the other side of the city.

Or maybe, he's a college student like you are, does he have a roommate ?

Pupils traveling up again to the window, you're about to get on your toes for a better look. Maybe you should say introduce yourself tonight, rather than guessing and throwing hypothesis out there. And maybe, just maybe, you want to get a better look at his face.

He turns around, you duck to the side.

It’s around six after meridiem when you finally, finally get up from the sit you occupied for several hours now. Maybe you should’ve taken a break between two massive paragraphs to write, you think as your arms stretch up above your head. Thank god, the beloved coffee you decided to drop your bag in had some comfortable light beige chairs, cushion as still cloud-like, exactly like you found them the first day you entered the shop.

You wonder how they keep them so clean, someone must’ve dropped their dark coffee or chocolate on the unforgiving fabric at least once, you surely fear being one of these clients.

“You done ?”, familiar voice hums, and you just nod at the question, eyes falling on the black clock right behind the counter.

“Yeah, I can’t think anymore.”, you tell your friend, hand grabbing the second cup of coffee you brough, shaking it lightly to estimate the amount of liquid left. Jaehyun, maybe your closest friend in your university, pouts at that. Dirty blonde hair fall in front of his eyes as he grounds, before he lets his forward press against his computer’s touchpad. The poor guy had been struggling for an hour now, the rhythm of his fingers tapping on his keyboard gradually loosing speed. You have to say, you were in the same situation, writing and rewriting the same sentences again, brain refusing to cooperate after already vomiting out a few large paragraphs. But, unlike your friend, you decided to stop there for the day, you still had a full week to finish it anyways.  

“I can’t do this anymore.”, the Korean grounds again, dramatic nature kicking in as his head snaps back, rolling backwards, the men cannot go a day without faking death.

“Save it, we still have a week to do it.”, you sigh out, but you don’t hide the smile growing on your face at his antics. Though, you don’t wait for his answer, saving your own file before closing your laptop.

“Six days. Six.”, he corrects, like a day changes anything anyways. See, Jaehyun needs to turn his paper in a single day before yours, since he had chosen to attend the very class twenty-four hours before you. Rolling your eyes, you know the men cannot read your facial expressions, bag turned as you drop all your belongings into your bag.

“You gonna stay ?”, you simply ask, there’s no need for you to point out the slight difference in days. Jaehyun nods fingers running on his touch pad as he zooms out his Word Documents, eyes scanning over his six pages for any underlined errors. “Well, good luck. I didn’t finish this, want it ?”, you ask, eyebrows slightly raised as you push the still fresh iced coffee towards your friend, who doesn’t need more, lips wrapping around the straw.

“Text me when you’re home.”, Jaehyun mumbles, mouth filled with tiny ice pieces, pieces he quickly swallows. “Don’t work too late, text me too.”, you finish it like you too usually do, quickly waving before you walk out of view.

“Are you done, Y/N ?”, another familiar voice calls you out, one you know pretty well by now. See, the coffee shop is getting more and more exposure as days go by, but it does not meet the owner and workers will forget about the regulars, like you. “For the day, yeah. Still have a few things to write but I should be done tomorrow or the day after.” You smile at the brunette, Hana, coffee “Flâner”’s cashier. As said, she’s a brunette with the longest locks you’ve ever seen. Or maybe she has black hair, you think it depends on the lighting. Anyways, she’s been there since the opening, working 4 days a week, greeting costumers with a smile and a light French accent whenever she spoke, thought you remember her saying she was born somewhere else.

“Ah, I hope you’ll have a good grade !”, she says cheerfully, black irises leaving your form as she places some cakes into their signature black box. “Is…Jaehyun staying ?”, the smallest asks, even behind the counter, you can’t help but notice her small, petite figure. It’s like she doesn’t dare to look at you, and a small smile stretches your lips. Oh…She doesn’t hide her crush very well. You wonder, is Jaehyun staying late for another reason as well ?

“Ah, yeah. He’s proofreading what he wrote today.”, you explain, fainting obliviousness.

“Oh, alright !”, she responds with a smile, eyes flickering from your figure to the your friend’s. You’re about to leave, let them somewhat alone if you forget about the three other costumers drinking their tea, when your eyes fall the small cakes she’s arranging behind the glass. And god, how they look tasty. You guess they’re make of a chocolate mousse, a shortbread at the bottom, your mouth salivates. As said, you’re not the Bree Van de Kamp of your building but, if you’re going to greet your new neighbors today, shouldn’t you bring something ? And no, you’re definitely not doing this because of what happened this morning, no way.

“What are these ?”, you ask, taking a step closer.

“Un royal !”, she answers in French, your eyes squint as you try to say it back. How the fuck does she do that -r sound.

“Can I have two of them ? And a croissant, please.”, you order, hand already fishing for your phone. God, this shop will make you go bankrupt, they will also make you addicted to their food, if you’re not already.

“Sure, ma’am !”, the young girl answers, before she grabs yet another black box. Fingers push the cardboard until it takes the shape desired, iron tool dropping the cakes into it. You’ve done this so many times, it’s ironic. Right hand grabs the box, left hand turning your phone screen towards the young girl so she can scan the code.

“Thank you, good bye !”

“See you soon, Y/N !”

The glass door is pushed with a shoulder, smile stretching your painted lips when you give another look inside the shop, catching Jaehyun walking up to the counter. “Buying three coffees isn’t a way to flirt, Jaehyun.”, you laugh to yourself before leaving.

It looks like the sun is about to set, sunlight a lot less aggressive compared to the beginning of the afternoon. Cakes in hand, the walk to your building is a short one, though you come across the Hwang family from the fourth floor going to the park, greeting the mother with a smile, waving lightly at the twins she’s holding hands with. Ah, you really do love this area, you think as you walk along the park’s barrier, catching a few giggles and screams from young kids. And, from the sound of it, they started opening the water in the fountains.

“Cakes again !”, Sangkyu might be on the older side, he still has some sharp eyes, you note. The door closes behind you with a small noise, the lock activating itself. “Yes, cakes again.”, you say, shooting him a fake-ly offended glare, left hand to your chest. “But these aren’t for me, they’re for the new neighbor.”, you point out, walk slowing down in front of the men’s cubicle.

“Ah ! Mister Suh and…”, his face contours as he tries his best to recollect the second name. Oh, maybe it was a couple, good thing you got two cakes, even though you got one for yourself… “Right ! His roommate, Mister Leechayapornkul !”, his features light up with a smile as he correctly – you assume – recollects the second name. Ah, a roommate, you think, interesting. “Oh, I didn’t know they were two. I’m going to introduce myself now.”, you tell him with a smile.

“Ah, by the way, have you heard ? Miss and Mister Jeon want to organize something for the building’s anniversary, I’ll keep you up to date !”

On that, you leave the old men with a smile, quickly strolling to the elevator. The metal cubicle stops at the third floor, a young girl you don’t really know polite greets you before pushing the fifth button floor, she’s probably friends with the kids on that floor.

“Floor number nine, floor number nine.”, the metal doors open on your small hallway, and for the first time, you walk towards the right door. Deep, dark green color like yours, your shoes barely make a noise on the light beige carpet as they lead you to your neighbors’ place. You stay there for a second, mind questioning the dumbest things, should you wait a bit ? How many times should you knock…? Raising your fist up, the first joints of pointer and middle finger tap a few times on the dark wood. One, two, three. You wait.

Though, everything seems silent, if it’s not for the small noise of the elevator going up and down. Are they…Not there ? A small pout on your lips, you shift on your feet, both hands grabbing onto the black box. The apartment was silent, you guessed your new neighbors were not there, your luck.

From : Jaehyun, 8:37 pm. : “im home !!” : “ended up proofreading and wrote the second to last part” The well familiar name flashes on your phone, alongside a picture you took when you visited his family on the country side. Jaehyun’s rather tall body’s folded as he tries to ride on a small tricycle, legs so long his knees are above the handlebars. Quickly, your thumbs tap on the small keyboard as you walk toward your room.

After entering your bedroom, you decided to eat a bit earlier, taking a shower before going back to your guitar. The shower was a cold one, if the sun had already set, the air was dense, heavy. Moments after stepping out of your shower, a thin layer of sweat managed to gather around your hairline. It’s like the weather suddenly switched to the middle of summer, and you definitely were not ready for it.

To : Jaehyun, 8:38 pm. : “is it because of the third coffee you bought :D ?”

To : Jaehyun, 8:40 pm. : “…i do not know what youre talking about .” To : Jaehyun, 8:40 pm. : “when are you gonna ask her ?”

You send the message before locking your phone, throwing the devise on your bed. You’re quick to set up your guitar, since you left you amp’ plugged in yesterday. Right index flicks the switch up, before you plug the Jack cable in. However, as you’re about to flop on your bed again, you notice the screen of your phone lightening up as your college friend calls you.

“How did you know ?”, it the first think he asks, tone whiny, the second you accept the call and press the speaker button. “It is very much obvious, Jaehyun.”, you laugh out, left hand finding its place around the neck of your black and white guitar as you bring it on your lap.

“Do you she’s int-.”, Jaehyun starts as you play out a few random chords, thumb stroking the six strings ever so softly. “Yes.”, you cut him before he even manages to finish his sentence. “She’s into you. I thought you knew.”

“I, uh, I wasn’t sure.”, he mumbles, and you hear his fork pick whatever his eating. After hanging out around the male for some years now, you figured your good friend was a bit clueless when it came to his looks and charms. Yes, Jaehyun knows that’s he’s handsome, you don’t miss the opportunity to remind him whenever he gets dressed up or send you a selfie, as a good and supportive friend.

But, Jaehyun doesn’t really weight the affect he has on girls, guys, and everyone in between. You remember when this guy in your Music Therapy class, and another girl, you don’t really remember what hear studies were about, but she was in your distant group circle and they both had a big – massive – you’d say, crush on your friend. You remember both of them throwing some light hints at first, thought the girl went a bit harder after as the first eventually dropped it. Jaehyun, him, was completely oblivious until you told him one night, when he was staying over after a night out. “Ask her out already !”, you sign out, left hand over your guitar’s string, blocking any sound.

“I will soon, okay ! Give me some time, I’m…Thinking about the right way to do it.”, your friend starts, drinking something in between his words. “Anyways, moving on ! How’s your neighbor ?”

You sigh at the question, opening your laptop as you search in your files for something to play, you really should organize your things a bit better, you think to yourself.

“They weren’t there.”, you breath out, eyes unconsciously flickering to the window. From this angle, you can’t really see much, apart from the vague shapes behind the curtains, yellowish light on before you even came in your room.

“They ? Oh…Is it a couple ?”, Jaehyun asks, tone slightly disappointed. See, this morning, you obviously told your friend about the airdrop…Thing. Obviously, you had texted him before going to sleep but decided to keep much of the details for a real life conversation. After a hushed story-time, eyes travelling to your teacher every now and then to make sure he was not looking at you, you told him about what happened this morning.

Of course, it immediately poked the blonde’s curiosity, who would not be. As said, you and Jaehyun had been friends for some years now. When you two met, he was in a relationship that ended a few months after, you being there for him had strengthen the bond, he had been single ever since and you, had been single all the way. Sure, you had a few crushes, two or three people shooting there shot but, the crushes were always short-lived, nothing serious.

So, when Jaehyun heard that you found someone attractive after months of radio silence of the channel of your earth, someone who lives next to you at that, your friend jumped on the occasion, already hoping for something to happen before you even got to introduce yourself to the guy.

“I don’t know, Sangkyu said they’re two roommates.”, you inform, trying to recall the two names the oldest men told you hours before.

“…Are you sure you don’t want me to stalk ?”, Jaehyun proposes for the second time today. As soon as you finished your small story this morning, the Korean asked if you wanted him to do some stalking, promising and selling his apparently, amazing, skills in the domain.

“Jaehyun, no. I didn’t even introduce myself.”, you breathe out, half-desperate, half laughing at his antics. “Alright, alright. Go see them soon, alright ?”, there’s a small silence, you simply hum at his question. “Play me something while I do the dishes.”, your friend yawns and you oblige pretty quickly, after finally finding a song to practice to. Maybe you need a little more practice on the song, one by Frank Ocean in the “channel ORANGE” album he put out in 2012, if you recall correctly. On the other line, the sound of water running and dishes being done drowns the voice of your friend slightly singing to the song, one you two have on the collective Spotify playlist you have. Your attention stays on your screen, just in case you forget a chord and, as you’re starting the second chorus, something comes between your eyes and the sheet. Your hand comes flat on your guitar strings, stopping the music at once. You already know what it is.

Jaehyun does not stop the water, but his voice does comes closer, microphone muted every now and then as you hear him struggle. “Why did you- Oh, fuck, nooo. There’s sop everywhere.” You laugh breathlessly at his whines, eyes quickly looking at the black screen of your phone, like you’d be able to see your friend. Though, you hear him wipe his screen, cloth going over his microphone again.

“There ! Why did you stop ?”, he asks, bringing his mouth a bit too close to his phone. Staying silent for a second, your finger tap on yet another Airdrop. “He sent another one.”, you simply say, a bit quietly, as if your neighbor will be able to hear you. Pupils look over at the window, you almost want to get up and walk to your window but…

Jaehyun gasps softly over the phone, “Play it, play it.”, he says as you’re scanning the sheet sent. And oh, he’s that type. It’s crazy how two songs alone help you draw a quick sketch of your neighbor’s personality, or his music taste at the very least. Unlike yesterday, you don’t hesitate and open the file sent, though you have to say you already know the chords.

“Jae’. He sent The Neighbourhood’s Daddy Issues.”, you squick into the phone after grabbing into with your right hand. Jaehyun knows well, you still love the band but had an unhealthy obsession a few years back, not to mention your massive crush on Zach Abels.

“Oh. Ooh. He’s like that.”, Jaehyun notes as well, before he presses you again to play it. Urged by your friend, you lean forward to adjust the reverb on your guitar. “That’s…Kinda hot, though.”, your friend whispers out and you, yourself, can’t comprehend the sound that comes from your lips, something between a laugh and a choked gasp.

“Jae’…What ?”

“No, but, I mean…Daddy Issues, that’s hot.”, he tries to explain himself, you quickly shut him up by running your fingers over the six strings. You don’t really need to look at the tabs, from memory, your fingers find their rightful place.

“3D, 5D, 3G, 5D, 5B, 5G.”, you say as you play the notes, humming the rest as you play the intro.

“C minor, G minor, B flat major.”, and from then, you remember the song pretty easily. Between two chords, you turn the volume on your guitar up, just to make sure your neighbor’s hearing you play.

“That’s flirting.”, concludes Jaehyun once you’re done with the song, you know him well enough to know his mouth a bit agape.

“It is not.”, you tell him, though you’re not sure yourself what this is.

“You have to talk to him like, right now.”, he urges so loudly you have to turn the volume on your phone down.

“Now ? No ! I’m in my pyjamas, and I don-.”, you start, and it’s your friend’s turn to cut you off. “’kay, okay ! Go talk to him tomorrow, please ?”

“I will, don’t worry.”, you start, but before you can continue, you’re phrase’s cut again but this time, it’s by…A piano.

Your mouth parts for a second, a single syllable falling from your lips before you close your mouth. The tune’s familiar, but you never heard in played on a piano. Your head slowly raises, eyes fixated on your window.

“Can you hear this ?”, you quietly ask Jaehyun, who answers with a soft “Yeah”, sounding as dumbfounded as you do. Slowly, you get up from your bed, leaving your guitar on your bed, that’s when you realize how hot it is. The fabric of your shirt sticks to your skin, hands lacing into your hair as your push them up in a makeshift ponytail to let your neck get some air.

It's after a few notes that you finally put your finger on it. The Weeknd's last album, “After Hour”. “Repeat after me.”, you tell Jaehyun, I single “Oh” coming from his lips as he recolls the song.So he's a musician as well, you conclude easily. You never heard anyone play this very song on the piano, you wonder if it's his own arrangement.

On the other end of the line, the blonde's silent, carefully listening to the soft piano tunes as you do the same. Few steps take you to your window again, just like you did this morning. This time, curtains are pulled to the side, enough for you to  see the same broad shoulders under a black hoodie, back straight as his head hangs down towards the keyboard.

From your spot, you can't really see his fingers, but you do see his hands quickly running over the black and whites, pressing confidently. Seeing a pianist's always mesmerising, eyes stuck on the figure, you try your best to get a better view but, what can you do from your room ?

When the song ends, unlike this morning, you don't hide behind your wall. Your neighbor doesn't move, stretching his arms above his head, fingers laced together, a curse falls down your lips.

“Y/N. Send him a sheet.”

It's around five in the afternoon when you find yourself in front of your neighbor's door, holding a black box of cakes, for the second time this week. Your classes had ended two hours earlier today and maybe, maybe you should use that time to work on your assignment but since last night, you don't think you can go another day without introducing yourself to the building's new people. Plus, you have enough time, you tell yourself.

It's ironic, isn't it ? You weren't the type to go out of your way to speak to your neighbors, most didn't have a lot in common with you but now. Now, this nameless, a bit too handsome young guy moves in and you're bringing some patisseries in front of his door.

Music brings people together, you've always thought, you've always known and this, this is a pretty good example. You're pretty sure you wouldn't have went out of your way like this if the guy didn't send you a tab sheet, if he didn't play last night.

Like yesterday, you bring your first up, knocking a bit more confidently this time, thought you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding.

You barely have the time to let your hand fall down to your side when a deep, voice a bit far away let's out. “Coming !”

Of course, broad shoulder guy had to have a deep voice to go along side.

“Oh, hi.”, your soul almost jumps out of your body when the deep green door abruptly opens to reveal none other than your - handsome - neighbor.

“Hi...! Uh, I'm your next door neighbor, the name's Y/N.”, you let out, maybe you should thank your past self for practicing this very line right before stepping out of your apartment.

Your right hand's stretched out in front of your for him to shake, but your attention's on something else. Deep brown eyes stare down at you, they almost make you feel small. Or maybe they're a honey brown, you wonder as the plane blocking the sun finally moves away to reflect into his eyes.

Yes, definitely honey brown eyes, the same eyes that turn a crescent shape, just like before a full. moon.

He smiles at you with the same full lips you saw from your window, hands wrapping around your own.

“Ah, yes. Johnny, nice to meet you !”, he says, hand slowly shaking your own. Finally, a name on the face. You quickly notice the slight simple in the middle of his cheek before he lets go of your hand.

“Oh, I bought some cakes from the coffee shop down the street.”, you tell Johnny, both hands one the black box.

At this, his lips turn from a smile to an - o shape, eyes round. Maybe you guessed right at the moon phase.

“You didn't have to !”, your neighbor blurs out, hands at his sides for a few seconds before they eventually accept the gift when you slightly push the box towards him. Your eyes fall to his hands for a quick second and yes, definitely some pianist hands.

“It's just a small welcome gift ! I wanted to drop them yesterday but, I think you weren't there.”, you explain, a lot, lot more relaxed, though turning your attention away from the men's hands. This isn't the moment nor the place.

“Ah yeah, me and Ten we're out for the first grocery shopping trip.”, he explains, right shoulder leaning against his door frame. You get a quick glimpse at the apartment itself, though you don't look at it too long, everything looks already set up. You remember taking a week to get everything as home-like, but you guess having a second pair of arms help.

“Ten ?”, you ask, right hand wrapping around your left upper arm. Probably the one Sangkyu was talking about the other day.

“Yeah, he's my roommate.”, Johnny answers, letting a silence settle between the two of you. “Do you want to come in ? I won't be able to eat two cakes by myself.”, the men proposes after a few seconds, pupils landing on the black box. He probably saw the two cakes thank to the transparent part of the cardboard box, at the top.

Come in ? And... Eat with him ? Suddenly, your palms grow sweaty, slightly shifting one foot to another. “Oh, but. Your roommate.”, you mumble out.

Sure, at first, you bought two cakes, one for him and one for you. Though you thought you'd eat them by yourselves, when Sangkyu told you about the second person living there, you figured you'd keep the two cakes for your two neighbors.

“He's at his parents’ house to get some things, he won't be there until the day after tomorrow.”, the brunette tells you with a smile. His body moves a bit more, enough to let you enter. “Come on, I need someone to help me eat all of this.”

How can you say no to this ?

“Wait, it ends like that ? There’s no way he does that.”, laughs Johnny, a full laugh that shakes his chest, right under his plain white t-shirt. Short sleeves rolled up to his shoulders, his body leans back, black jeans covered legs spread on his one person sofa.

“I swear he does, watch the second season !”, you interject quickly, straw mixing the iced tea in your long glass, ice cubes clashing against each other before eventually melting away.

“Yeah, I guess I will…! I never thought he’d kill her.”, you neighbor says, and he seems genuinely choked, bushy eyebrows raised.

After taking a step in his apartment, the pianist led you to the biggest sofa, where he left you for a few minutes. People say boys are bad at decorating their place, but you have to say Johnny and Ten’s apartment was already looking pretty good. Beige walls, a few black and white pictures were hung up right above the dark sofa. Wide windows on your left, your apartment has the opposite view. While you have a view towards the city center, street lights fascinating at night, Johnny has an amazing view on the park.

Large television right in front of you, you quickly notice de PlayStation 4 and switch neatly placed under it. On your right, just like your apartment, the small open kitchen, counter the only thing separating the two rooms. The honey-eyed seemed to have found his marks easily, navigating in the kitchen quickly. After taking out two plates and two small spoons, he placed the two cakes, refusing your help every time you offered it.

“Iced tea ?”, he had asked, taking out two long glasses when you agreed. Red hibiscus iced tea was poured and handed, before he sat in front of you. You do not remember well how the conversation around the series “You” started, but you recall seeing his Netflix profile on the tv screen.

“So, you live alone ?”, he asked after some seconds of silence, pillow lips wrapping around his metal straw.

“Yeah, I’ve been there for a year, I’d say.”, you start out, spoon digging into the chocolate mousse. “You’ll see, it’s lovely here.”, you tell Johnny with a smile he mirrors.

“I’m sure it is, everyone’s really nice. Especially Sangkyu.”, you laugh at that, the old men really has the power to give one memorable first impression.

“Ah, Sangkyun-.”, you laugh, “He’s something.”, you point out, yourself taking a sip of the iced tea. “Really good memory too, he made fun of me for buying two sets of guitar picks in a few months span.”

“Oh, right, the guitarist.”, Johnny smiles, placing his empty plate on his table. Pink tongue pokes out to wet his lips, your eyes shamefully follow the movement before forcing yourself to find his honey eyes again.   There it was, you didn’t know when nor how to bring the subject up, but you were thankful it happened naturally. For two people, two strangers, the conversation was going pretty well.

“Exactly ! By the way, sorry if the music’s too loud.”, you add quickly, yourself reaching towards the table to leave your empty glass. You’ll have to ask for the receipt. Johnny’s reaction is almost comical, his head shaking from left to right. “No, no ! It’s not too loud, not at all. T-That’s why I sent you a sheet, I liked it.”, he blurs he words out quickly, cute, you think.

Crossing one leg over the other, your eyes shift to the left for a quick second at the small compliment. “Thank you. You’re a good pianist.”, you return with a smile, spoon scraping the last bit of biscuit.

“Thank you very much, it means a lot. Have you been playing for long ?”, he asks, glass a quarter full left on the table. His right arm comes behind his sofa’s backrest, getting more comfortable.

“Since I was…eleven. Got an acoustic for my birthday and ended up selling it for an electric a year and a half later. What about you ?”, you explain, remembering the light brown instrument your parents got for you, you also remember it being way, way too big.

“Ah, yeah, I’ve always liked the sound of an electric guitar better. I was seven, or eight. My mother wanted me to learn and I ended up really liking it.”, he explains, fingers tapping on the sofa’s fabric.

Music brings people together, you tell yourself a second time when Johnny tells you about how her mother loves the sound of a piano, how she’d always stop next to her when he played. A kind of art that helps you learn more about a person, when he tells you his favorite songs to play and you tell him yours.

“But you do have a real pianist’s hands !”, you argue back when Johnny down plays one of your compliments, to which the brunette looks down. Crescent shaped eyes fall on his ring clapped fingers, a small smile on his lips he struggles to hide. “You noticed ?”, he asks, and you try to convince yourself his voice did not get lower.

“Well, yeah. A music student always looks at people’s hands.”, nice save, Y/N.

You learn the young men kept music as a hobby and currently studies international commerce et economics, Ten is a long, long time friend pursuing performing arts. You learn your neighbor’s not only a good looking men, brown locks falling in front of his, nose crunching up every time he finds something funny, rosy lips tugging up to reveal a row of white pearls. He’s also extremely well mannered. Soft spoken, polite, his chuckles put you in a comfort zone, the way he almost doesn’t let you help him clean the two plates a bit too cute. You find his presence entertaining.

Maybe it’s because you just met him, things to learn about him awaiting, but you don’t see the hours running by, nor does he.

It’s around ten post meridiem when Johnny insists to walk you to your door, handwritten receipt of his hibiscus iced tea in hand.

“Do you want me to st-”, Jaehyun asks over the phone for the third time in a week, or maybe for the fourth time, you lost count. Your devise rests right next to your laptop, which is propped on your desk.

“No, Jae'. I don't want you to stalk him.”, you breathe out into your microphone, fingertips tapping on your touchpad at a random rhythm. A paragraph, the conclusion, and you should be done on your essay.

“Too late. Got him !”, he almost chants out and, at that, there's a silence. Clear sign of your disappointment and your blonde friend's concentration. “Oh, wow. He's a photographer too ?”, he asks as if you can see his screen.

You hate it, you hate how your curiosity gets picked by the simple sentence. Needless to say, Jaehyun was filled in by every bit of information you got once Johnny walked you to your door, at least he waited two days before searching for your new neighbor's Instagram. Or at least you think.

“Oh wow. OH. Woah.”, your friend gasps into his microphone, your index taps aggressively on your keyboard, deleting the last sentence you wrote. He’s obviously doing it on purpose, pushing your bottoms. The blonde knows how curious you are, he’s just trying to see how long you can keep it together.

“Uh, Ja-. Show me, what did you find ?”, not very long, obviously.

“Ah, see ! Wait, I'll send you some screenshots. He's hot.”

He is, you want to answer, but would rather shut your mouth for now or you’ll never hear the end of it. Eyes finally leaving the screen of your laptop, they travel to another, finger unlocking your phone.

Your text messages with your friend enlighten your features, bubble appearing at the bottom.

“Finding him was extremely easy.”, Jaehyun points out, before a few screenshots are sent at the same time.

And indeed, you see how easy it must've been for your blonde boy. User johnnyjsuh.

He must've been pretty popular in his old schools, you think after looking at his followers.

Pictures of him in the same white shirt you saw him in days prior, pictures of him with an argentic camera, selfies, mirror selfies, outfit pictures. His feed is almost as good as Jaehyun's. And that says something.

Unlike Jaehyun, you don't have to be careful, worried you'll accidentally like one of his pictures. Shamelessly zooming on the screenshots your university friend sent you, you unconsciously pull your bottom him between your teeth.

He's cute. Too handsome it should be illegal.

“That's a lot but, yeah.”, Jaehyun giggles, you learn you don't have much of a filter between your mind and mouth. “Follow him !”

“Are you crazy ?”, you almost scream out, eyes wide at the suggestion. “He'll know we searched him up.”

Basic social media rules, you can't follow the guy when you don't even have his number, nor talked to him more than twice at this point, if him talking to you in the elevator counts.

“Alright, alright. Don't scream in my ears like that, I have earphones.”, he complains, not leaving you a second before continuing. “Y/N, don't be a coward, airdrop something.”

“I-.”, you start out, attention drown back to your computer. With one tap of your finger, you manage to hide your word document, piano sheet open behind it. You’ve searched a few sheets the day prior, downloading one before going to sleep that night, just in case.

After all, he sent you two tabs, why wouldn't you send him something ?

Tap, tap, you open the airdrop settings. You really should, hm ?

“Alright. I'm doing it.”, you finally say, more to yourself but your friend softly cheers on anyways.

“Ocean Eyes - Billie Eilish.”, from the songs he sent you, it's a fair guess your neighbor is familiar with this one too, you’d doubt he doesn’t know who Billie Eilish is.

“Johnny's IPhone”, it's a click away. One you reach, tapping on the touch pad again. Sent. There.

“Now we wait.”, you announce, leaning back .

“Tell me if anything happens, I have a call to take.”

On that, simple goodbyes are said, you promise Jaehyun you’d tell me if anything happens, he hangs up after saying good bye a second time.

Minutes go by, you don't really know how many, maybe five where you debate going back to your essay, finger frantically tapping on the Word Document icon. Before a few notes are heard.

Piano notes, fingers pressed down on white and black keys. It has the power to make you smile, lips tugging upwards, there’s obviously not a doubt who’s playing at this very moment. Even the way he plays feels confident, he's sure of himself, he knows what he's doing.

Attention for your school work long gone, your pupils naturally find your window again.

It's slightly open, the music would come in easier if it was fully pushed, you think to yourself.

Do you even have to hide anymore ? You guess not. He knows, you know, it's just music you want to enjoy, you convince yourself even though your palms are slightly warm, heart fluttering in your chest.

Leaving your phone on your desk, you quickly walk to your window, right hand in the handle pushes it towards yourself. Warm breeze enters your bedroom, in a soft gush that sends your baby hairs floating away from your face, framing your features.

The sun's just starting to set, purple hue tiger stripes on the blue sky but your eyes are on another shade of purple.

Johnny's wearing a light lilac hoodie, brown locks the only thing you can see, he hasn't moved his piano, his back facing you again.

Forearms against the window frame, you lean forward, humming at the summer sent floating in the air.

A bit too quickly, your neighbor ends the song, hands lingering on the keyboard. Finally, his right hand grabs the very phone he propped up on his piano to see the sheet you sent him, sliding it in his back pocket.

He stands up, fingers toying with a button on his instrument, probably turning some things off.

He turns around, you don't duck to the side.

The men's visibly taken back, his turn stopping mid-way, lips slightly parting for a second. Honey brown eyes find yours before his pupils travel down at your body behind your glass window. He genuinely smiles after a few seconds, eyes half crescents, full lips tugging upwards, you can almost hear his giggle.

“Hi.”, voice soft, Johnny says once he opened his own window a bit more, forearms on his frame, mirroring your own posture.

“Hey, that was very good.”, you tell him, head tilting to your left.

“Ah, thank you. I messed up somewhere in the beginning, though.”, one hand scratches the back of his neck like an embarrassed teenager, before his elbow rests on the frame, hand holding his jaw.

“Ah shoot, I'll send something easier next time.”, you tease, to which he laughs lightly, the sound airy.

“Would be easier to send it by text, wouldn't it ?”, Johnny asks, one eyebrow raised and you have to say, you took a second to understand. But when the brunette hands you his phone, pricy devise between two apartments on the ninth floor, your eyes grow wide.

Your number, he wants your number.

Probably just because you two are neighbors, you have a bunch of your neighbors’ phone number too...

And also probably because sending sheet via airdrop isn't the most convenient thing in the world. Don’t over think it, Y/N. Don’t overthink it.

Two hands grab his phone, just in case, and you struggle to remember your phone number all of a sudden.

You have to retract in your room, too scared you're going to drop the devise with your slightly trembling hands before eventually typing in your name and phone number. You don’t get why you’re so nervous, maybe it’s because Johnny didn’t stop looking at you, slightly giggling at your antics.

“Oh, by the way. I'm sorry if sending that tab sheet the first time was too much. I just couldn't resist.”, Johnny blurs out once he gets his phone back, sliding it back into his pocket. It’s his turn to look slightly nervous, hand rubbing at his shoulder.

“Ah, no, not at all ! It was fun, plus I think we might share the same music taste.”, you reassure him with a smile.

“Really ? You should send me your playlists.”, your neighbor says with an enthusiastic tone, eyes lightening up.

If Jaehyun was there, he'd tell you this was blatant flirting. Maybe you'd agree. At that very moment, you thank your past self for having a pretty organized Spotify accounts, you're one of these people with matching playlists accounts and vague names, a playlist for each feeling almost.

“Yeah, sure ! I'll send you my Spotify user !”, you immediately tell him, as keen as he is.

“Nice, and I c-.", his sentence is abruptly cut by a surprised noise falling from his lips, brown eyes looking up at the sky. He sticks out his right hand, palm up.

Rain starts pouring down.

Saturday, laundry day. It’s not a moment you particularly cherish but at least, you do not have to walk meters or kilometers to wash your clothes. Half thorn basket on your left hip, your right hand mindlessly scrolls through Johnny’s playlist, small smile on your features.

See, after the rain started pouring down, you two decided to return to your rooms in unanimity. Now that he had your number, communication was a lot, lot easier. As promised, you sent him your Spotify profile, where he followed you and you did the same.

User youngho’s listening to “The Weekend – SZA” from “late summer nights and city lights” playlist.

Your playlist.

User citylight’s listening to “Angelina – WIINSTON” from “yellow” playlist. His playlist.

Blatant flirting, Jaehyun would say.

Johnny has his playlist organized by colors, a simple theme you quite like. You have to say, you like all of them but, you had to follow his “purple”, “blue” and “yellow” playlist, where your neighbor managed to capture the color’s feeling. However, after a few days, the “red” playlist sat untouched. You didn’t dare. For having a similar playlist Johnny was actually shamelessly listening to, you knew exactly what the “red” playlist held.  

To : Johnny, 1:25 pm. : “how does angelina only has 40k view on youtube !!”

You quickly type on your keyboard, right after saving the said song to your likes. Finding new artist and finding new song’s always fun, especially when Johnny’s as invested as you are. He’d send you his thoughts on some songs, and you quickly learned the brunette was musically more intelligent than some people in your course.

From : Johnny, 1:27 pm. : “I honestly don’t know….” : “It’s such a catchy song too like”

Double text. Fuck, Jaehyun really got into your brain, didn’t he ? The notification bar slides down for a few seconds, enough for you to read his texts. At the same time, the metallic doors of your elevator open up to the lobby. Leaving your devise in your basket of dirty clothes, you figure you’d answer in a few minutes, once you’re done with your laundry.

“Good afternoon, Sangkyu !”, you call out the the older men before he manages to see you. It’s a fun thing you like to do, catching him off guard whenever you can. Turning his face towards you, the bold men vigorously waves.

“Y/N ! Hello !”

You don’t stop by his cubicle, rather turn to your left right before. There’s built the building’s laundry unit, you thank the architect every week for this. You do pay a little for it every month but again, it’s better than having to walk for minutes with a basket of heavy fabric. Four small machines and four bigger, it’s enough for everyone in the building. It’s also where some announcements are tapped, probably because people usually sit around the laundry room waiting for their clothes.

You’re probably going to watch an episode of Chambers while your clothes watch, you think to yourself as you open the door. It seems the universe has some other plans for you.

By now, it’s almost comical how easily you recognize Johnny’s back. Brown t-shirt on his broad shoulders, his head bob to a rhythm you can’t hear. He’s dropping his wet clothes in the machine to dry them, face turning towards the noise as you close the heavy door behind you.

“Oh, Y/N, hey !”, his smile is heard through his voice, right hand taking his earphones one. Johnny places his Airpods in their case, one you quickly notice is Marvel themed.

“Hey, Johnny.”, you wave with a hand, taking your earphones off as well.

“I was just listening to your playlist.”, the brunette says, shaking his earphones in his hand. You laugh at that, leaving your basket on the table. You assume the second basket there is Johnny’s. “Same !”

There’s a comfortable silence, the brunette pushes a few buttons on the machine and his clothes are sent for a cycle. You, yourself, drop your clothes in the washing machine after setting your phone on the brown table. You’re about to turn around and sit down, but you’re abruptly blocked by a tall figure, accidently bumping into Johnny’s chest.

“Oh, sorry.”, he breathes out, you hear him place another basket on his machine, right hand on your shoulder as if his chest did anything more than surprise you. “No worries…How many clothes do you have ?”, you ask with a laugh, not meaning to sound rude. But your neighbor’s dumping a second whole basket into the machine right next to you.

“Ah, Ten. He needs an entire outfit every day. Sometimes he even changes in the middle of the day.”, the machine quietly starts after the blue liquid is poured, Johnny leans against it. You’ve never seen your neighbor so up close, how is his face so symmetrical ? Slender eyes curling inwards, short little lashes batting a few times.

“Y/N ?”, fuck. His lips sure were moving and you didn’t register anything at all, you probably look dumb.

“I’m sorry, wh- what did you say ?”, clearing your throat, your eyes travel down to the machine, looking at the settings like you forgot to turn something on.

“I found your guitar picks. I mean, I assumed they’re yours.”, he says again, but he doesn’t hide the wide smile on his lips. You probably look dumb, really dumb. Right hand fishes into his back open, before he presents what indeed is one of your guitar picks, the light blue one. He holds it between his thumb and index, you notice he does so the right way, maybe he plays guitar.

“Oh, yeah. That’s definitely mine. Where did you find it…?”, you half ask, already knowing the possible answer. His palm opens to reveal not one, but two other picks of different colors.

“Washing machine.”, he says simply.

You learn Johnny uses a detergent that smells like vanilla and some flower blossom you can not distinguish, but the smell sure is comforting. It floats in the air as he folds his clothes next to you while doing a very detailed report on The Weeknd’s new album.

“But he’s right, though. “Repeat after me” is just a song where he brainwashes her but it’s so good.”, you tell Johnny while you take care of your wet clothes.

“His storytelling skills just keep getting better.”, he approves while popping a candy in his mouth. “Want some ?”

“Oh yeah, thanks !”, dropping the small chocolate in your hand, both your attentions are caught by the sound of the door opening. A lady in her mid-thirties enters the room, dyed red hair stopping at her shoulders.

“Miss Jeon, hi !”, you great the lady with a smile, one she easily returns. For the entire year you’ve been there, you don’t think you ever saw her without one tugging her lips.

“Hey, kids !”

Ah, yes. Miss Jeon also insists on calling everyone slightly younger than her “kid”. You don’t mind, though. You notice the rolled up paper in her right hand as she takes the hairband out.

“Doing laundry, eh ?”, she starts out, “Ah, it’s a great thing you two are here. Me and my husband are organizing a little gathering for the building’s anniversary.”

Right, Sangkyu told you about it, you remember. You hear Johnny hum behind you, to what Miss Jeon continues.

“It’ll be Saturday in two weeks ! Johnny, you and your roommate could come and get to know everyone a bit better, yeah ? Though I see you’ve already made friends with our Y/N.” Oh no, there she goes. You love the Jeons, but they’re so, so talkative, and they never know when to stop. They’re like parents taking your old embarrassing pictures out when your friends are over. Your eyes grow wide, a slightly embarrassed chuckle coming out of your lips.

The lady struggles to unwrap the paper, to which Johnny leaves the shirt he was folding to help her out.

“Ah, thank you. You know, Y/N isn’t really that talkative, but I think it’s because we didn’t share a lot in common, and we’re not as young and handsome as you.”

God. Stuck on your chair, wide eyes look at the scene as your neighbor chuckles. “Oh, really ?”, he urges her to continue to your misbelief,  but you quickly understands he’s doing it on purpose, crescent eyes sparkling with amusement as he looks over at you, the young and handsome bit wasn’t necessary but it sure did boost his ego.

Miss Jeon finally unfolds the paper, a big announcement on the anniversary gathering she’s holding. In the park, with the date and hour, you guess you should find an appropriate dress for the event and something to eat to bring.

“Anyways, it’s great having new faces ! You’ll come, right ?”, sticking he paper to the wall, the lady claps her hands, a little joyful jump when Johnny nods.

“Yeah. We’ll go together, yeah ?”

You learn Johnny isn’t only a good looking guy, he’s also a really good friend.

The friendship grows easily, after Miss Jeon left, he helps you out with your clothes while already planning what to bring for the gathering. The brunette tells you he’s better at cooking salty dishes than sugary cakes. You agree on that, it’s one of the many reasons why you buy anything sugary at the coffee shop down the street. Nonetheless, you and your new neighbor decide to challenge yourselves, you propose some French crepes and Johnny agrees on using his kitchen for it, with the help of Ten who’ll surely be here. Surely, the kids living in the buildings would love them and, they aren’t that hard to make.

You two walked to your apartment floor, basket in hand, though Johnny’s ability to carry two at the same time is rather impressive. One on top of the other, you try to be as discreet as possible when your eyes travel down to his arms, flexing, to his ring clapped fingers, gripping at the handles. He doesn’t walk you to your door but, is it really necessary ?

It’s funny how the universe seems so willing to put him on your path.

Every now and then, you catch a glimpse of the men through your window, walking in his room, mindlessly walking back and forth when he’s thinking about a composition, pen taking on his full bottom lip. He seems really concentrated whenever he tries to write something, eyebrows furrowed, whispering quietly to himself. He catches you carelessly dancing to songs late at night under your lights, moving like nobody’s watching, hands in the air as the singer’s angelic voice seems to control your body, silently giggling when you catch his eyes and abruptly stop.

He seems to vaguely have the same schedule as you do, you see him getting ready some days of the weeks, applying cream on his face like the first time you ever caught a glimpse at his sharp features at a distance. And you bump into him in the elevator every other day, both so exhausted with your classes, heavy backpack carelessly throws over your shoulders, so tired you two would rather smile and stay silent in the metal cubicle. You see him with his roommate a few times too, the first time happens to be right in front of their door, both of them carrying two bags of groceries.

Finally, you’re introduced to Ten, a much smaller and a bit thinner guy, though you quickly find out his personality might be as big as Johnny himself. His bright smile and laugh are both extremely contagious, and you also notice for yourself how much he cares about his appearance. Just like Johnny told you when you first saw him in the laundry unit, he wears different outfits like he’s going for a runway every day. Sharp eyes covered under his jet black hair, you can’t help but notice the multiple piercings on his ears.

Funny enough, you catch your new friend at the “Flâner” coffee shop, getting the exact same cake you brought him and some dark coffee, he tells you he got addicted to everything they do but regret not having enough time to sit down and study here.

On top of that, he never stops texting you, you never stop texting him. Conversation flows easily to the point where you sometimes have to pause to type out a response while you’re on the phone with Jaehyun.

Ah, your dear friend Jaehyun. Your blonde friend follows the events like a drama, though you tell him multiple times that “Nothing will happen, we’re just neighbors.”

Are you, though ? You don’t know if neighbors send each other sheet, you and Johnny never stopped, it became easier with his number. You don’t know if neighbors talk to each other by the windows, for so long it leaves marks on both your arms at the end of the night, red dent on your skin. You don’t know if normal neighbors talk to each other that much.

You and Johnny tip toe on the lines between neighbors and friends, the line between friends and…a little more ? The line snaps right before the building’s anniversary.

Thursday, one in the afternoon when the metal doors of your elevator open to your hallway. The sun’s shining, birds singing, your teacher’s car broke down, leaving you with a free day. Truly, the universe was on your side, you thought when you got the text from your classmate. After texting Jaehyun who told you he already went to the mall at your opposite, you decided to use that time to buy some curtains and take a day off your studies. A well deserved day off, you might add.

After searching again and again, you thought it’d be better to get new ones. You remember the old ones got dirty anyways. Plus, it’s not like you want to hide yourself from Johnny, he has some and you figure you should too for some privacy every now and then. A pack of clear curtains in your hands and some cushions in a bag for your living room, you step out of the metal cubicle, only to be greeted by a Johnny standing right in front of your door. Attention caught by the sound, your friend turns around, half expecting to see you and, he looks slightly flustered ? Short eyelashes bat a few times, rosy cheeks as he opens his month just to close it right after.

“Hey, Johnny ?”, you start, completely clueless at first, you don’t notice the white fabric he has in his hand. “Do you need something ?”, you ask, setting down all the new things you bought down, alongside your bag as you fish for your keys inside.

“I-uh…”, he starts. Why is his voice so shaky ? Eyebrows slightly raised, a knee down, you look up at your friend with a curious look. At that, the brunette looks away. Honey eyes diverge to his right as he shifts his body from left to right.

“Johnny ?”, keys in hand, you rise to your feet, slightly turning away to open your door, struggling a little at the last lock.

“We uh, got some clothes mixed up.”, he tells you, pink hue on his cheeks. You take a few seconds to understand, before recalling the meeting in the laundry unit.

“Oh ! I didn’t even notice anything missing.”, you tell him with a laugh, before your smile wavers to a more…stunned expression. The white fabric he’s holding in a hand, you only need a second look to distinguish the lace waistline you know too well. Your panties. He’s holding your panties. God, you didn’t even notice ? You wear these often, you don’t have that much panties. “Oh.”, you say again, with a much different tone. Heat washes over your body, a much deeper shade of pink coloring your cheeks.

Lips dry, you extend your hand down, almost timid to hold your own piece of clothing.

Johnny stays quiet, handing you the white underwear, hand hiding in his pocket right after.

“Erhm, thank you.”, you mumble out, hiding the fabric behind the pack of clear curtains, like he did not have the time to look at it before.

“I’m sorry, I found them in my shirts this morning and I first thought about just leaving them at your door but it would’ve been even more awkward.”, he laughs slightly, hand rubbing at the back of his nape again. You laugh lightly at that, it sure would’ve been even weirder to find your panties in a box in front of your door. Creepier too.

“Would’ve been very Joe-like.”, you tell him with a smile, the atmosphere immediately a lot less tense. You’re thankful for it, it’s clear Johnny didn’t want things to be…weird either. He laughs a little, cheeks high, before noticing your new purchase, especially your curtains.

“Oh, redecorating a bit ?”, his arms cross in front of him, biceps building up, stretching the sleeves of his shirt. “Ah, a little. I just needed new curtains, I forgot where I stored the old ones.”, you tell him, shoulder leaning again your door. “Putting them on was a nightmare.”, you sigh a little, head resting on your door as well. When you first moved in, you had to put the curtains all alone and only remember the ache in your neck and arms.

“…Was it ?”, he asks with a sly smile, eyebrows lightly furrowed like he’s questioning your experience.

“Some of us aren’t blessing with your height, Johnny.”, you tell him with a fakely annoyed glare, “I almost fell down and broke my back.”. You dramatize with a pout on your lip, to which Johnny only smirks lightly.

“Need some help ?”, Johnny finally, head tilting to the side. “I don’t want you breaking your back.” Yet, Johnny thinks.

“Ah, please !”, no need for him to propose a second time, you’d take anyone to help you with these demons any day, let alone someone like Johnny. One hand turns your door handle, proceeding to push it with your body. “Welcome to my humble home.”

Johnny lightly chuckles at your antics, curious eyes scanning over your apartment. It’s always weird to see an apartment so similar to yours yet so different, he hums at the sent of the light incense you blow out right before leaving. Sliding your shoes off, your friend follows quickly after, though he takes them with one hand to neatly store them right next to your door.

“It’s really pretty.”, he hums behind you as you walk towards your living room, letting the back full of cushions on your table. Smiling brightly as his compliment, you have to say you were pretty proud of your decorating skills. You took multiple months to pile everything you wanted up and, after a year, all your plants grew green and luscious.

“Thank you very much !”, hands gathering your hair, you quickly attach them with a hairband you always have on your wrist. “Do you want something to drink ?”

“Hm, maybe later ! Let’s start with these nightmare curtains first.”

“Alright, let me just get the stool.”, and on that, you take a second to remember exactly where you stored it before quickly jogging to the small closet near your entrance door. You don’t remember the last time you used it, you take a few seconds to take the cold iron object out of its hiding place, one foot stuck in a random box you still have there. You finally pull the object with a sharp tug and not without a small sound of struggle. Johnny is quick to grab into the heavy object and lets you take care of the pack you just bought. For the few seconds you take to move from your living room to your bedroom, you pray you didn’t leave anything too embarrassing there, you really didn’t think you’d have Johnny over today. But thankfully, when you open your bedroom door, the only think you left on your bed’s your pyjamas or rather, shirt you sleep in you didn’t fold the morning.

“So that’s the room.”, Johnny notices softly, the very room he seems fragments of from his own. Curious eyes look over your desk and the multiple things you sticked right above it, before they travel to the side he definitely never saw from his window. Denty fingers gaze at your guitar’s neck like he’s afraid of touching it without your permission, though it’s definitely clear you don not mind.

“It is ! Is it weird seeing it entirely ?”,  you joke a bit around as you sit the pack down on your desk. Scissors you leave on your desk are used to cleanly open the transparent protection as Johnny opens the stool and places it where he desires. “Really weird, I’m used to…this.”, he jokes too, thumbs and pointers digits forming a frame in front of his eyes. “And that’s what you see. My room looks so empty from here.”, Johnny notes, leaning a little in front of your window.

“It looks like you only have a bed and a piano in there.”, you tease him.

“I don’t ! I spent two entire days decorating it ! I’ll show you next time.”, he promises and somehow, it has the power to make your lips part a little, heat slightly burning your cheeks. The brunette doesn’t notice though, and immediately starts helping you out with your curtains.

Or rather, you help him. Johnny does most of the work on your curtains and you won’t complain. The men takes things into his hands, stepping onto the stool. Where you needed to climb the four steps, Johnny barely needs to climb two, body barely needing the extra height. His hands work quickly to detach the metal bar on each side, fingers twisting at the sides. When the black bar is finally off, he hands it to you so you can work on the hoops and slide the curtains in, which you do quickly.

As easily as he took it out, Johnny slides the metal bar back in before screwing each side in. From this angle, his jaw looks even more sharp, eyes focused never leave his work. He looks even more intimidating, especially when his eyes look down at you and you have to dodge eye contact. “Much easier like that.”, you say, almost dumbfounded at how easily he just did…that. Johnny laughs with the breathy giggle you’re starting to get used to. “See, only took a few minutes at best.”, Johnny says while stepping off the stool, hand lightly touching the curtains.

“Wait, let me throw this away.”, you mumble out, picking the packaging in your hands. Again, Johnny isn’t slow to follow, telling you he’ll help you with your stool. The young men follows you quickly, easily finding the small closet you store anything and everything in once you point it with your index. From your small kitchen, the sound of the stool being pushed inside and the door closing is followed by Johnny’s joyful “Done !”.

“What do you want to drink ?”, you finally ask when the brunette sits down right in front of your kitchen counter. Elbows on the cold grey material, he stares for way too long at the two choices you offer him. Tropical juice in your right hand, still unopened bottle of some bubbly beverage in the other, your friend acts like it’s a life or death decision. “C’mon ooon.”, you laugh out, arms getting tired at the way you’re holding the heavy bottles.

Finally, the brunette points your right hand with an index.

“Oh, you’re a slytherin ?”, he asks when you open your cupboard. Glasses on the bottom and mugs at the top, you look up at the same exact mug he noticed. Right in the middle, the grey and green logo is a clear statement on your Hogwarts house.

“Yes, a very proud slytherin.”, you tell him while setting the two tall glasses on the counter, pouring equal amounts of juice into them. “Let me guess, Gryffindor ?”, you ask, arching an eyebrow.

“I actually never took the test.”, Johnny says, to which you dramatically gasp. “And I never watched the movies. One of my friend’s just a really proud slytherin as well, I bought so many slytherin themed gifts that I just can recognize the logo right away.”

Double gasp, you set your glass down, eyes growing wide as you’re trying to judge if he’s actually joking or not. You found he definitely isn’t, but he does find your reaction quite funny. His laughs resonates into his glass, liquid half drowned.

“Are you for real ?”, you ask him just to make sure, and your neighbor just nods.

“A hundred percent, I just never really had the chance to watch it.”, poking his tongue out, pink muscle collects the drop of juice threatening to fall down.

“In 2020 ?”, you’re dumbfounded, you never thought someone could actually go so long without watching it. “You have to watch it.”

“I will. One day. Maybe.”, Johnny teases, eyes falsely rolling back.

“Now.”, you tell him, a certain sense of urgency in your voice. “I won’t let you get out of my house uneducated, young sir.”, you tell him before looking through another cupboard, hand pushing some unopened chips bag and opened for too long biscuits. Finally, your hand find the flat package you were looking for, proudly taking out for Johnny to say right after checking for the expiration date. “I have popcorn.”

How can Johnny refuse ? How can he, who he has to say, already has a soft spot for you, say no to such a proposition ? Not when your clutching the said uncooked popcorn bag against your chest, slight pout he’d probably kiss away on your lips. Wait, what. Johnny understands he’s utterly fucked once he agrees after a very short time thinking, he’s fucked because he knows the more time he spends with you, the more he’s probably going to fall. You, on the other hand, only understand what you did once Johnny comfortably takes place on your coach. You’re unaware of it, but you have the same exact soft spot, the same small butterflies whenever music is heard from the other’s bedroom, the same tiny smile creeping up whenever one sends a song recommendation, the same tingly feeling in the middle of your chest whenever one catches a glimpse of the other.

Another thing the two of you have in common, you two have some impressive actor abilities, if Johnny acts cool and unbothered, totally not lowkey stressed and watched over by adrenaline at this very moment, you can do the exact same.

Has his thighs always been so…Muscular ? Firm ? Your eyes quickly move away when you catch the train of your thoughts, looking into your bowl like it’s most interesting thing ever as you pour down the hot popcorn. Picking one up, you pop in into your mouth, unconsciously trying to distract your thoughts. This brand’s popcorn really good, right amount of caramel on each piece, you wonder what hickeys look like on Johnny’s caramel skin.

Fuck, bravo. Way to go. It’s his jeans, you blame it on his jeans and how they seem to perfectly hug his legs as he spreads them on your coach, one arm right behind it as he scrolls on his phone with the other.

If the brunette’s thumb is scrolling ever so slowly on his twitter timeline, his mind isn’t really able to read the small tweets at this very moment, not when you set the bowl full of popcorn down on the table before dropping on your knees in front of your tv. Why does he have to see everything in such a way, Johnny quickly blinks and tries to get his attention back on his phone but what can he do when you’re right in the background, in the peripherical vision.

He sees you looking for the movie in the pile of CDs and games you have, before finally finding the very first Harry Potter, a triumphant “Ah-ha !”, coming out of your lips.

“You’ll love it.”, you tell Johnny once you place the CD in the CD player, something you haven’t done in actual months, seating down right next to him. You’re some what grateful you only own one single sofa that’s enough for two people and a bowl full of popcorn right in between.

“Wait, is that how Cedric dies ?”, Johnny’s mouth hangs open at the young actor laying seemingly lifeless on the grass after a fatal spell, a gag sound coming out of your friend’s lips when Voldemort’s bare feet comes in contact with the Hufflepuf’s face. “I hate this shot.”, you tell him, slightly disgusted at the scene, before you yawn loudly against your hand. The glass you refilled many time is now empty, you leave it right next to the empty pizza box Johnny insisted on buying.

It’s midnight, you can barely process the hour it is, not how long you stayed by Johnny’s side to the point where you’re curled up next to him under the blanket you two are sharing. At the end of the first movie, you were happy to see a pretty speechless and invested Johnny, it was still pretty early, around four and a half in the afternoon and you both agreed to watch the second. At the end of the second, he offered to buy pizza and something to drink while you popped the third movie. Let’s just say Johnny got a bit excited when you said the four movie was your favorite and midnight being still a bit early for two students, you agreed on watching a last one.

“So, what do you think ?”, you ask once the credits starts rolling, lazy smile stretching your features. Your tall friend flops off the coach, letting his body slowly fall on the ground to grab his phone charging. “This one’s definitely the best, I mean, the whole Marauders thing ? Love it.”, he tells you, head resting on the sofa you’re still on. “I wanna know what my house is now.”, he mumbles while unlocking his phone, searching the right quizz.

“Wait, wait. Let me read the questions !”, you tell him, hand stretching to get his phone, and the brunette gives it to you without hesitation. You, who took the exact same official test four times, are familiar with questions and ask them one by one. Day or night, forest or beach side, Johnny thinks about his answers before. Familiar animation before the sorting hat reveals his pick, you hide the phone with a hand. “Guess.”, you tell him after looking at the result, results you would’ve easily guessed.

“Gryffindor ?”, he asks with a slight bit of doubt in his voice.

“Gryffindor !”, you tell him with a dramatic shout, mimic the sorting hat’s. His head rolls back with a grown, eyes screwed shut even though he has a smile stretching his full lips.

“Ah-! I lowkey wanted to be a Slytherin.”, he tells you, big puppy like eyes looking at you from below.

“Oh, really ?”, you ask, slightly surprised. You had to say Johnny was more of a Gryffindor than a Slytherin.

“Yeah, I wanted us to match.”

Full lips out in a pout, it’s your turn to think about kissing it away.

You understand you’re fucked when Johnny helps you out in cleaning your living room, washing your glasses while you dry your plates and bowl. He understands he’s fucked again when you hum a song he’s familiar with but can’t put his finger on the name. You both are fucked when he slides right behind you to set your glasses in your cupboard, chest brushing against your back. It feels strangely domestic, comfortable and…Normal ? A soft “Be careful”, comes out of his mouth and his breath moves a few pieces of your hair, arms stretching up to carefully place the glasses he just washed. It’s your turn to walk him to his door, where you two understand Ten’s already fast asleep, loud snores coming out of one of the rooms.

How strange it is, people say time alters in airports, empty trains stations and others. Time alters in front of Johnny’s door. He leans against his door frame like the first time you two met, lazy eyes looking down at you as you stretch a bit more.

“It was fun.”, he tells you quietly, tired smile stretching your lips. You return it, sighing as your muscle wake up.

“Yeah, glad I got you into Harry Potter.”, you tease him a bit, “Might have to buy you some Gryffindor themed things.”

“Ten’s gonna lose it when he learns he wasn’t the one to get me to watch it.”, you frown at that, head tilting to the side.

“Wait, he tried ?”

“Yeah, but he never sold it like you did.”, he hums and for a moment, it seems his mind isn’t really where his words are. Honey eyes drop for a quick second to your lips, but he regains his thoughts as quickly.

“Oh, he’s gonna kill me, isn’t he ?”, you joke a bit, though you’re surprised you managed to get Johnny into the saga quickly when he told you before that him and Ten knew each other for years. The brunette’s laugh is breathy, controlled so he doesn’t wake up his roommate who’ll probably kill him right before killing you. “If he finds out, totally. We don’t have to tell him, though.”, and, did his voice just drop even lower ? You didn’t think it was possible, the man’s voice is already deep but right now, in the dead of the night, it almost seems sultry.

“Oh wow, having our secrets already ?”, you breath out, biting a laugh down on your bottom lip. It does it for Johnny, his attention was already on them right before but, his slightly clouded mind could not really help himself. He doesn’t take his eyes away, not even when your mouth slightly parts at the realization. Only then do you wonder if it is mutual, your breath alters for a second, just when the taller let’s a simple “Yeah” tumble from his lips.

He leans down, or at least, you think he does. A millimeter, maybe you dreamt it, maybe he was going to hug you, a millisecond, a third voice gets heard from the deeps of the apartment.

“Johnny ? Turn the fucking light off.”

“Y/N-ah, Y/N !”, Sangkyu sings the moment you step foot in your building with your grocery bag. You guess quickly it’s because of tomorrow’s gathering, the old men always loved a reason to party, with moderation obviously.

“Hi ! You seem particularly happy today.”, you tell him, stopping in front of his cubicle, you notice he added another drawing to his wall, probably the kids on the first floor.

“I am ! We finished making the cakes a few hours ago and they are de-li-cious.”, his eyes disappear as he smiles brightly, you decided you love this man with all your being.

“Ah, I can’t wait to taste them !”, you hum, switch your bag from your left hand to your right. Even without knowing what him and his wife did, you can at least guess without a doubt that it is going to be as delicious as he says it is.

“Just a day ! What are you making ?”

“French crêpes !”, you tell him while lifting your bag, proud smile at your pronunciation, you just went and bought some milk and flour for it right after leaving your university, Johnny told you he had everything else.

“Ah, yes, with our new neighbors, hm ?”, he starts, smile turning vicious and oh, you know where he’s going. You wonder if Jaehyun and him are working hand in hand. Let’s just say Jaehyun did not drop the subject, not when he learned you accidently ignored his texts the other night because of a movie night with the brunette. Not when you told him you think Johnny almost kissed you. Or hugged you.

“Yes.”, you tell him simply, not going any further. You hope he will drop the subject, but you know he probably won’t.

“We hear you two playing, but you should both play something together.”, Sangkyu tells you, not taking the hint or maybe, he decided to ignore it. But he is not wrong, you two should play something together. You have to say, you didn’t know your playing was so loud but if no one ever complained, it was a good thing, right ?

“We should.”, you tell him with a smile, ready to go towards the elevator, his voice stops you a second time.

“Do you like him ?”, he suddenly asks. God, he really is acting like a father who also wants to be a friend. You suddenly stop right in your track, hand turning towards the oldest.

“Who ?”, you ask dumbly, but Sangkyu isn’t one to take your fake attitude.

“Johnny.”, he tells you straight forward and a bit too loudly, arms leaning against his counter with a too happy smile.

“Sangkyun…”, you whine, quiet in case anyone walks in.

“Y/N-ah…!”, he mocks the tone of your voice and you whine even more.

“Come on, you can tell me.”, you says, you know he won’t ever let you go and even if he does, he’ll draw his own flowed conclusions, better tell him already.

“Maybe, yes.”, you tell the oldest before walking a bit too quickly towards your elevator, index jamming into the up button.

“I knew it !” and, when you hide yourself in the metal cubicle, you see your old friend making a few happy dance moves with his arms, you wonder if you’re seeing Jaehyun in the future.

“Alright, how’s this ?”, you ask Jaehyun after stepping right in front of your phone. You’re actually video chatting with your blonde friend, but you can barely see half of his face, he decided to hold his phone so close you could only see from his hairline to the bridge of his nose.

“Turn around.”, he says, breath overloading his device’s microphone. You do so anyways, showing him the outfit you decided to wear for tonight. Obviously, it was just a small gathering between neighbors, you didn’t have to go all in with a cocktail dress but, a nice and pretty one was expected. Following your friend’s order, you turn to show off a black, thin strapped, body hugging dress you got a year ago and yet, never wore.

“Is that your mom’s jacket ?”, Jaehyun asks, chewing on what you think is a handful of chips. You hum at the question, you’re indeed wearing the oversized jean jacket you mother used to wear when she was in college. “The dress looks hot, when did you buy it ?”

“Eh, last year ? Around the middle of the summer.”, you tell your friend, stepping out of your phone’s camera to search for your earrings. “Wait, you never wore it, right ?” “Nope.”, from a distance, you can hear Jaehyun mumbling something about you having too many clothes. Maybe he’s right, but you brush the remark anyways, taking your rings.

“How’s my makeup ?”, you ask, kneeling in front of your phone, you step closer to let the blonde have a closer look at your eyes makeup. “You know I don’t know shit about makeup !”, he complains, finally letting you see his face as he moves his phone. “Jaehyun, does it look good ?”, you ask him, acting annoyed at his antics.

“Yes, you look good.”, he says, voice somewhat a high pitched tone as he snaps a picture once you stand up again. “If lover boy doesn’t kiss you tonight.” Small smile stretches your lips at the compliment, you decide to brush the second sentence off, applying some lipstick before checking your watch.

“And you’re telling me he acted like nothing happened ?”, Jaehyun asks, sound of the chips bag covering his voice. You sigh at that, eyes rolling a little, you think no matter how many times you’ll tell him, he’ll keep asking. “He did. I mean, his roommate was there so, he couldn’t really…Y’know ?”

A quick glance at the bag you’re supposed to bring down to the gathering starting in fifteen minutes, it holds the dozens of crêpes you, Johnny and Ten made a bit earlier. Just like it was planned before hand, you showed up after class to their apartment, Ten was the one who opened the door. Apparently, Johnny was a bit late, his teacher’s lecture went on for a bit longer than anticipated and when he showed up, he immediately helped with the batter. The brunette greeted you like he usually would and acted like nothing happened the night before, though you don’t blame him, not when his roommate was between the two of you half of the time. You had to bring your own pan after realizing how many crêpes you’d actually make and, after about two hours, you left to get ready. Let’s just say Jaehyun was not happy with the lack of exciting events. You weren’t either, but you still somehow hoped something would happen tonight, somewhere deep in your thoughts. However, you didn’t want to think too much about it, tonight was a gathering to celebrate and have fun, you didn’t want to overthink what happened the night prior.

“Anyways, I have to go.”, you finally tell you friend, who simply tells you to enjoy yourself and text him after before hanging up.

Heavy bag of crêpes in your hand, you slide out of your apartment after spraying some perfume on your neck. Locking your door, your neighbors are quick to follow as you agreed to go together and, fuck.

He looks hot, Johnny looks hot. There’s a slight second where you stay silent and take in his figure, legs hugged by a tight pair of black jeans, cotton white blouse slightly open on his caramel chest, the golden hour isn’t even here and yet, the slight bit of sun hitting his skin makes him glow. You know, you know he caught you staring and yet he stays silent, slight smirk tugging a side of his full lips.

“Y/N, Ma’am !”, Ten’s voice drags you out of you reverie. The men takes a step closer, you notice the very pricy Yves Saint Laurent grey and white top he’s wearing. “You look fucking good ! Right ?”, it seemed the men only needed a few hours to get familiar with you, but you don’t complain and smile at the compliment.

“You do, you look amazing.”, if Ten managed to make you smile brightly at his antics, Johnny’s low voice only makes you blush and your eyes waver a bit, not knowing where to look, almost unable to keep eye contact with the tallest. “Thank you. I-, hm, you too.”

Great.

“Thank you. Let’s get going, I don’t want to be late.”, thankfully, he doesn’t say more, hand grabbing onto his own bag where you assume he has the chocolate and strawberry spread.

“Wait, what about me ?”, his roommate asks, acting so offended you wonder if he isn’t actually hurt by the lack of compliment you and his roommate showed. The smallest frowns, angry glare at Johnny who doesn’t even notice him as he went towards the elevator to call for the metal box.

“This shirt looks amazing on you, very pricy too.”, you tell your neighbor with a laugh, stepping right behind the tallest, waiting.

“And I already told you it looked good.”, he says, right before stepping in the elevator.

“Thank you, Y/N.”, the black haired says your name a bit louder, but you don’t pay too much attention either.

Poor thing, if you and Johnny aren’t aware yet of the tension, Ten sure is, and he hates every bit of it when he understands, stuck in an elevator where he’s the third wheel. By the way, has your elevator always been so small ? Your back leans against one wall as Johnny does the same right in front of you, honey eyes traveling from your eyes to your uncovered collarbones. The brunettes tries, he really tries to stop his eyes from traveling down but they do eventually, swallowing built up saliva when his pupils travel down your hips, to your naked legs.

Ten’s almost about to say something, just to break the thick silence before the doors opening saves the young men, he decides he definitely is not going to stay with the two of you tonight.

You, on the other side, seem to finally be able to breathe once you step out the elevator, Johnny’s attention did not go unnoticed. Try and act normal, probably the only thing going on your mind and Johnny’s.

“Hey, look who it is !”, Miss Jeon’s voice is heard before you can even see her. You’re familiar with the park the gathering is taking place in, but it sure looks amazing in the late afternoon. At this time of the year, the grass’ green, flowers bloomed, small fruits are starting to turn red under the summer sunlight. Even better, the water fountains are on, the one right in the middle is large, tall, multicolor lights when the moon shines. Finally, when you and your two friends turn the corner to enter the park, you’re physically greeted by Miss Jeon who’s wearing a really pretty pen skirt, hair flowing in the soft summer wind. “Miss Jeon !”, you greet her with a smile which isn’t enough for the lady who pulls you into a hug. One hand grabs yours and the tallest makes you swirl around, a high pitched “Wow ! Look at you !”, coming out of her lips.

“You look amazing, darling. You two, too.”, as always, the lady is extremely cheerful. You notice hers and other neighbors’ kids already playing around in the park, loud screams every now and then. A bit closer to the fountain, multicolor light are hanging from the threes, you can faintly distinguish a song playing. Large tables are set there, alongside chairs were parents and others are all talking together, setting whatever they bought.

“Go set everything there, we’ll start eating soon.”, Miss Jeon instructs, and you follow her orders as she stays in front of the park to greet anyone coming.

Everything is quickly set up where all the deserts are, neighbors come until you they flood the park, you almost think everyone’s here. “I did not expect so many people.”, Johnny tells you, taking a plastic cup to get himself some juice right before giving you a cup.

“Me neither.”, you tell him, eyes glazing over the last people walking in. Almost everyone responded to the call, a pretty heart warming sigh. Some of your neighbors you never actually talked to are here, mostly because they’re from other buildings from the same project.

“I see Ten is already making friends.”, you continue, eyes catching your friend talking to another neighbor, one you think is in his early thirties, you’ve talked to him once, maybe.

“Ten is a social butterfly.”, Johnny laughs into his cup, before eventually taking a step forward toward the black haired. If his roommate was going to socialize, he might as well too.

“I think it is overrated.”, ah yes, now you remember why you did not much to this guy. James is a foreign, blonde, man bun type of guy who finds everything overrated, it’s almost impossible to talk about your hobbies and interests with him without being ripped apart. He probably isn’t that mean just, not that good at social interaction. You see Ten’s expression turning from excited to somewhat confused, to what you intervene.

“What is ?”, you ask, and you don’t really like when the blonde acts like he did not notice you and Johnny walking.

“Oh, Y/N, hi. Long time no see.”, he says, not paying any attention to Johnny. You greet him anyways, slightly taken back by his attitude. “And you are ?”

“Johnny.”, the men behind you says, stretching a hand out to shake his.

“Oh, strong grip.”, slight contortion of the blond’s face, he quickly retracts his hand when Johnny lets go.

“Anyways, when are you letting me see you play ?”, James ask and oh, how you have to search in your memory to understand what the fuck he’s talking about. The blonde wants to learn how to play the guitar, that was, maybe eight months ago.

“Oh eh. One day, maybe.”, you awkwardly laugh.

“We hear you play every night, don’t say you don’t have time for me !”, he tries and laugh off the sentence. Ten shifts, poor thing seems taken back but thankfully, Johnny’s quick to react. As you’re about to respond, his hand slides on your waist, “I’m pretty busy with uni’, but I can send you some great guitarists’ videos.”, you choke out, mind slightly bugging at the brunette’s touch.

“She’ll let you know when she has time for you.”, the tallest does not hesitate and, it visibly annoys the blonde. A sharp “Okay .”, tumbles from his lips before he leaves towards the salty foods.

“He’s weird.”, Ten finally says, Johnny doesn’t take his hand away.

It takes hours for Johnny to address it again.

The midnight breeze always feels special, soft, fresh, it licks the thin layer of sweat the bolt sun created on your skin. Your jacket’s off your shoulders, loosely hanging on the crook of your elbows, seating on the cold marble of the fountain.

Soft sound of the water running behind you, all the kids have been sent to sleep, alongside their parents and other hard working adults needing of sleep, just the low sound of some jazz music you’re unfamiliar with and some chatter as the background noise.

You shoes kick off some small rocks and sand, eyes looking up at the multicolor lights still hanging on the trees. You laugh off one of Johnny’s joke, before he gets serious again, his left hand lightly touching the fountain’s water.

“By the way, sorry about earlier. I didn’t ask if I could touch you like that.”

You have to think for a slight second to understand what he’s talking about, hand grabbing onto the bowl of ice cream you set aside for yourself. Your spoon digs into the chocolate cream, taking a fair amount of whipped cream.

“Oh ! Oh, no. Don’t worry about it, I don’t mind.”, I liked it, you would’ve said if you were a little bit more brave. Spoon in your mouth, you eagerly gulp down the frozen desert, Johnny only softly smiles.

“Is he always like that ?”, he asks, body turning a bit more to face you. He’s close, really close, but it became normal. It became normal for him to have your naked thigh against his, you shamelessly look down at it for god knows how many times tonight. It became normal for you to almost be able to feel his breath die on your skin.

“I don’t know, tonight was the second time I ever talked to him.”, you tell him, tongue quickly cleaning the tiny drop of ice cream forming at the corner of your lips. Johnny stays silent for a second, eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips, before its feels like he shakes his thoughts away. His gaze stays fixated on your eyes so confidently it’s even worst than him looking at your lips, you shift under his pupils, crossing a leg over the other.

“He seems really pushy.”, Johnny breathes out, and he finds the exact same octave he was speaking to you in just last night, right in front of his apartment. It’s clear he only is replying for politeness.

“You have hm, some ice cream, here.”, the brunette hums, again ripping you out of your reverie. Left hand covers your mouth, index and middle finger brushing at the corner but it seems you are not picking the right side.

“Wait, no-.”, he laughs for a quick second, crescent eyes before they shift to something else. His thumb quickly wipes the other side of your lips, and you freeze. You lock dead in your position, eyes slightly larger as he helps you clean up with a soft yet deep “There you go.”

For hours now, Johnny had been the only thing on your mind. From the moment he stepped out of his apartment, the moment his eyes seemed to devour every bit of your body, the moment he left is hand lingering on the small of your waist. To the moment he sat down to eat, legs, strong thighs spread, the moment he talked to the smallest kids from the second building, the moment he lead you behind the fountain with a hand in the small of your back.

But, when Johnny lets his lips capture the tip of his thumb, cleaning the bit of ice cream, you think you might never be able to think about anything else but him, but Johnny.

You have to look away, desperately trying to gather your thoughts, something you can’t do when the brunette’s looking at you with such innocent eyes.

“You okay ?”, he asks like he didn’t do anything, like he did not just do that.

“Yeah, I-.”, you have to leave you plastic bowl somewhere behind you, brain fuming to find something else to say.

“You’re blushing. You had the same look yesterday.”, he notes, and…He knows ? He knew before you did, that’s what his slight smirk tells you. “It’s a shame Ten had to ruin it, but I like this setting better.”, Johnny hums, but he never takes his eyes away.

“Could’ve kissed me anyways.”, you dare to say. Your mouth goes dry, for some reason, biting down on your bottom lip. The brunette comes a little closer, and just like last time, you can't help but get lost in his irises, notice the way his eyes curl at their inner corner, now how his pupils slowly eclipses the soft brown of his eyes.

Tongue poking at the inside of his cheek, his lines a bit closer again, hand sliding under your chin. You stop breathing for a second, eyelids involuntarily growing heavy.

“Did I miss my shot ?”, you can almost feel him mouth the words.

“Maybe, but I can give you another one.”, you manage to tease, face tilting to the side before he even does anything. If he doesn't do it himself, you'll break the distance, but he holds you in the palm of his hand, so hypnotise under his spell you can only anticipate his next move.

“Good, would've hated myself for missing it.”, he says and, as you hoped, the brunette finally lets his lips crash against yours. It's soft, a kiss to taste the water, though he himself taste the chocolate you just ate.

Pillows lips slowly starts moving against yours, you easily follow his rhythm, sighing when his hand moves from your chin to your neck, deepening the exchange.

Your hand easily finds his hair, finally letter your fingers grasp onto the soft locks. It's a soft grip, yet Johnny sighs softly against your lips, sound turning into a slight groan once you bite down on his bottom lip.

That does it for him, the kiss quickly turns needy, desperate, he touches where he can, second hand lightly running up your thigh.

Arms wrap behind his neck to keep him close, body leaning backwards, Johnny has to plant a hand on the marble behind you, second hand wrapping behind your waist.

The brunette doesn't hesitate a second more, like he's afraid of letting go of the moment, afraid you're gonna slip away between his fingers like the clear water of the fountain. Pick tongue laps at your bottom lip, you part them without a moment of hesitation. It's eager, rushed, the taste of the desert you just ate still lingers on your tongue while you get the fruity drink he was sipping on moments before.

Finally, when you have to let go for some air, breathing altered by the exchange, Johnny doesn't let go. Long kisses are planted at the corner of your lips, he takes his time until he travels down to your jaw where you stop him.

And, before he can ask you anything, you quickly grab his hand in yours, “Let's go inside.”

He follows quickly behind, leaving everything behind, you take the second gate of the park. Shorter, you also don't have to walk in front of all your remaining neighbors like this, lips swollen, eyes blown.

You don't think you've ever walked so fast to your apartment, you don't think you've ever been so happy to see Sangkyu's spot vacant.

The silence is heavy, breath still uneven when you push the button of the elevator and the doors open immediately.

If you didn't know the men behind you was as desperate as you were, you definitely understand once he pushed you inside the small cubicle.

He blindly pushes the button to your shared floor, right hand wrapping around your throat to swiftly push you against the cold wall. If he doesn't tighten his grip, you sure wish he did, but you have other things to care about at the moment. The hand previously around your neck plants itself right next to your hand and this time, he has to lean down to capture your lips another time.

Completely pinning your body to the cold metal, he uses his hips against yours, a gasp escaping your lips he uses to slip his tongue between your lips again. And, you let a breathy moan come out of your lips when he pushes his hips flush against your, hard on pressing against your body. Even with the two layers, you can feel him.

You never felt so hot inside this elevator, it moves without stopping at any floor, no music as the silence is filled by your soft breaths and the sound of his mouth against yours.

Beat washes over you, if your panties weren't ruined already, they sure are now. Now that the brunette rolls his hips, slowly, tentatively slow, just to make you feel every inch. Your mind's clouded, body reacting by itself when it archs away from the wall.

He lets his forearm rest against the metal wall, about to travel down to your neck, hips grinding against yours.

When he's about to bite down on the skin of yours neck, teeth grazing over the flesh, the doors open to your floor.

It's Johnny's turn to grab onto your hand, pulling you out of the elevator but he never stays too long away from your body.

Full lips pepper kisses on your face, before he breathes out against your skin.

“Your apartment, yeah ?”

Obviously, you want to tell him, naturally walking towards your door.

“Unless you want your roommate to walk in on us.”, you let a breathy giggle out, facing your door.

Fuck, now out of all times, you can not find your keys. Maybe it's because your shaky hands can barely search your pockets. Hard to blame yourself when the brunette stands behind you, hard cock pressed against you, arms tightly wrapped around your stomach, face buried in your neck.

“Baby, they're here.”, the tallest hums, voice so low it vibrates against your skin. His right hands pats one of your front pockets. A simple “Oh.” tumbles from your lips at that, mind hardly registering the way he still his moving against your body, nickname rolling out of his tongue too easily.

Finally, you manage to force your key into your door, quickly twisting the metal piece before you push the door open.

This time, you don't know if you pull Johnny in your apartment or if he pushes you in, the door is loudly shut before the men tries to take your near your coach, as you drop your jacket off somewhere.

“Johnny.”, you try to whine, but it comes out as a breathy moan as the men soflty sucks on the skin between your neck and shoulder, a pale purple petal blooming. His name coming from your lips sounds oh so delicious, Johnny decides he loves the way it sounds, determined to hear it again and again, louder and louder. “Let me at least close the door.”

When he lets you do so, not whitout a pout on his lips, they find yours again in a desperate kiss, hands grabbing the back of your thighs.

“This dress looks so fucking good on you.”, he growls once you let him pick you up, black fabric riding up your thighs.

“Got dressed up for you.”, you confess, your own lips traveling down his neck when the brunette sits down on your coach. He chuckles lowly, head rolling back, humming at the small attentions you're giving him. “Hm, saw you putting your makeup on and knew you'd look ravishing.”, he says.

Large hands on your hips, Johnny easily pushes your hips down on his thigh.

“Wow, I'll make sure to pull my curtains next time.”, you tease, blooming flowers on his collarbones.

“Give me a fucking show next time.”, he growls out, hand ghosting over your neck before his thumb traces your bottom lip again.

You almost freeze, mere thought of following his oder the next time you catch him in front of his window a little bit too appealing. Having him so close yet, too far to feel his touch, you already felt it for days.

“Come on, ride my thigh.”, you moan out.

Forceful hands help you find a rhythm, one you easily follow once your thoughts get over your dizzy mind. You mouth hands open, hands grabbing onto his arms at the sudden gesture. Johnny only smirks, an eyebrow arching up.

If he didn't before, he sure does look like a god at this very moment. Blown out pupil look directly into your eyes, honey color you know so well eclipsed. Swollen, red lips, a hue painted over his cheeks, small love bites trialing down. Soft brown hair messy by your hands.

“What ? You think I didn't see you glaring ?”, there's a slight mocking tone in his voice, slight embarrassment washing over you but your body follows his voice anyways. Strong thigh under your core, you can barely gather words to reply, it's even harder when he flexs his muscles under you.

Your hips rocks back and forth, delicious pressure against your nub but you need more, more than just his thigh. He has everything to offer and if you don't get it now, you might go crazy.

And so, you tell him. “Johnny, need more.”, your voice sure sounded a lot less weak but the men obliges.

“Impatient little thing.”, he gestures towards your room, and when think you might not be able to walk all the way there without him pushing you against another wall, you surprisingly do.

When you turn around and crawl up your bed, Johnny's quick to follow, hands gripping onto the fabric covering his back before he pulls it over his head.

Defined abs under his caramel skin, strong arms holding himself up, you need a moment to take everything in, hands running down his chest when he hover over your body.

“Take it off.”, he demands, voice almost strict. Leg over his hip, you barely use any force to change positions.

You sit on his lap a second time, supporting yourself on your knees to take off your dress. The brunette uses his elbows, mouth parting when you pull the fabric over your hips. He barely needs any support to sit up, hands grasping the black dress to help you take the fabric off entirely.

The brunette mumbles praises into your skin, lips ghosting over your neck, hands touching wherever they can. Desperate, he maps your body, learning every curve, every inch.

“So beautiful.”, he mumbles out, before his right hand traces the line of your panties.

They're soaked, wet patch on his black jeans and he doesn't fail to notice.

“Already so wet, hm ? Fuck, can I ?”, he doesn't hesitate once you give him your verbal permission, a finger running over your folds over the light fabric.

What a simple touch can do to you, you don't doubt the men doing it also has a huge part in it, but you shiver under the slight attention.

Biting down on his bottom lip, ring clapped hand dips into your panties, where his index and middle finger gather your juices, humming contently.

You're about to complain again, ask him to do something already but he beats you at it, both fingers effortlessly sliding between your lower lips.

“Fuck, ah— Johnny.”, hands gripping his shoulders, your eyes screw shut once he finds a slow and torturing pace, moving in and out as his thumb brushes over your bud.

It's sensual, burning, one hand travels down his chest until you're met with his jeans, quickly working on them once he nods.

You curse his tight jeans for a moment before he helps you push the fabric just enough, alongside his grey briefs.

And fuck, he's big. You knew when he grinded against your inner thigh, but the way his cock slaps against his stomach, head red and hungry, has your mouth parting, core clenching against his fingers.

“Shit, yeah. Good girl, right there.”, Johnny loses himself in praises, head rushing with thoughts he groans out once your hand wraps around his length.

It's probably the honest thing you've ever seen, Johnny's head rolls back, it hits the wall of your bedroom, Adam's appel bobbing up and down. The pace of his fingers matches the rhythm of your hand around his cock, eyes slightly opening just to watch your slender fingers around him and the way you take his.

“You're so fucking tight, god.”, a third finger goes alongside and you have to pose, jaw hanging open and the brunette can not resist.

His mouth finds yours again, kisses deep, messy, hurried. It's like his starving, he growl against your mouth when your thumb runs over his slit and your hips move against his fingers.

“Fuck, wanna taste you.”, he flips you over too easily, a gasp coming out of your lips when you back harshly hits your bed.

Strong hands gripping at your panties, your hear the sharp snap of the elastic breaking under his soaked fingers.

“Johnny !”, it's between a whine and a moan, how can him ruining your panties be so fucking hot.

“Will get you new ones if you want.”, you can barely recognise his voice, his fingers slide the fabric down and he looks up at you, eyes hungry, lips red.

“You have no fucking idea how hard I was when I found your panties.”, he confesses and, before you can reply, his mouth dives in. Tongue flat against your core, your legs instinctively close around his head, but his hands are quick to pin your thighs to the mattress while yours find his hair, messing it even more.

“Yeah ? Fuck, you're so good, your tongue feels so good.”

Johnny only hums, tongue running up and down until he wraps his lips around your button of nerves. The brunette's eating you out like a starved men, shamelessly, the wet sounds filling the room.

When he takes a break to breathe, he pops his fingers into his mouth, cleaning them.

“Taste so good.”, every word he says fires your body up even more, his mouth doesn't even need to speak for it to affect you, but you need him.

He dives a second time, fingers joining this time. Pace a lot less slow, his lips wrap around your bud a second time, focusing on the small button while his fingers quickly move.

In, out, in, out. Long fingers quickly build up the tension in your stomach, cold rings contrasting with his hot breath.

You only need a little bit more, when his fingers curl the right way, his groans vibrate at the right moment. Your fingers tighten around his locks as you come undone, loudly, unapologetically.

Wet lips, glossy eyes, Johnny looks at your figure as you arch your back away from your bed, moaning into the air.

It takes almost minutes for you to come down but, when you do, Johnny's about to dive a third time. Your hand stops his head.

“Want you inside, want to feel you.”, you tell him once you pulled him towards you face again. A quick kiss is planted on your lips where you can taste yourself, before he hides his face again in your neck, breathing heavily.

“Do you have a condom ?”, he asks, blown out eyes looking into your own.

You nod quickly, pointing at your bed table. You hear the brunette thanking the gods, he didn't want to have and walk all the way to his own appartement to get one. Leaning towards the said bed table, he pulls the small door open and find the box there.

Taking a little foil package between his lips, Johnny quickly closes the small door before hovering over you again.

Pearly teeth are used to open the packaging, he doesn't wait a second to roll the material out on his hard shaft, sighing slightly.

“So tiny, can you even take me ?”, it seems the brunette asks himself, hand jerking himself off.

You answer him anyways, “I can, please.”.

Soft smile on his lips, the brunette uses his hand to align himself with your drenched core.

The tallest thought about this very moment for hours the night before, but nothing prepared him for the tightenes, your wet, hot core wrapping around his head.

You both moan in almost unison, Johnny has to hold himself from slamming in. You, on the other hand, have a hard time wrapping your head around how he's stretching you out so nicely.

A mixture of pleasure and slight pain you're quickly addicted to. A hand claws at his back, the tallest moves inch, by inch, by inch.

“So fucking tight. When's the last time someone fucked you properly ?”, his sudden change in behaviour gives you whiplash, you can only whine at his question and mumble something about not knowing when, exactly.

“Please, fuck me.”, if you have to beg, you will but thankfully, Johnny doesn't have much patience tonight. Once he's fully in, he doesn't hesitate to pull out just to ram in. Your body rides up, head thrown back, moan silent.

“Gonna fuck you nice and deep. Stretch you, yeah ?”

You can only nod eagerly, Johnny laughs breathlessly. His forearm supports his body right next to you head, necklace hanging over your body, right hand tightly holding your hip.

He barely gives you the time to adjust, hips snapping at a steady pace.

Headboard sharply knocking against your wall, your thankful your neighbors aren't here. Still sensitive, your moans turn breathless, barely audible. Forehead against your own, Johnny doesn't hide his moans, your name, any profanities coming to his mind.

“Fuck, turn around for me, baby.”, breathless, chest irregularly moving up and down, he helps you do so after moving out.

Flipping you on your stomach, the brunette curses at himself a second time. His body flush against yours, he supports himself next to your head again, second hand affectionaly running in your hair.

He takes you from behind, cock easily sliding in this time. Moans hidden in your pillow, Johnny doesn't take that, using the hand locked in your locks to turn your head.

“Don't hide your moans, wanna hear you.”

Just like he wanted after stepping into your apartment, the tallest has you whining his name, loudly, until you're numbed, fucked dumb until his name's the only thing you know.

A snap of his hips reaches deeper, it's there you feel the tension threatening to break.

It's like he can read you, he does it again, breathy laugh coming out of his lips.

“Come around me, let go. Let go for me.”, it's all you need, you easily follow his order, core tightening around his shaft.

“God, your pussy’s gripping me.”, his hips alter, lips finding yours again. “Gonna make me come so hard.”

Fucked out, yet you managed to raise your hips, core clenching around him. That does it, loud growl resonates in the room, mixed in with your name.

“Are you okay ?”, Johnny asks, voice soft after he pulls out, throwing the condom in your bin.

You hum, too tired to answer, you smile nonetheless when he takes you into his arm, arm pushing your hair to the side.

“This isn't how I wanted things to go.”, he hums, picking a fallen eyelash from your cheek.

“Oh, really ?”, you ask, tired, his hand running up and down your spine putting you to sleep.

“Wanted to take you out on a date first.”, he admits. “But how do you want me to resist when you were calling me like a siren singing at a lone traveler.”

© NEOVISIONED l NO REPOSTING OR TRANSLATIONS ALLOWED.

[theloneliestshipper]

five times he thought she would leave (and the one time he didn't)

Can't believe I've been in fandom this long and I've never written a "five times" fic. Until now. :)

1. Failure

He waited until he knew she would be asleep before joining her in bed. This wasn’t how he expected the day to end.

It started with a message from Leia, rousing him from slumber in the cockpit of Slave I. He didn’t realize he was smiling until he switched on the nav computer to chart the quickest route home. She had some new outfit to show him, not it really mattered. She missed him and wanted him, that was the important part.

Now all he wanted to do was go back to his ship. To feel the comfort of the familiar walls and instruments. To be alone.

He had a son on the way. Half of him and half of Leia giving her the assurance that he couldn’t provide.

No matter how long we’re together, you’ll always be bracing yourself for the sad and bitter end.

He stood in the doorway of their bedroom, his eyes tracing in the vague shape of her under the blankets. Maybe she was right.

She won’t remember you.

Sintas had said that about Ailyn once. She knew it wasn’t true, she said it to hurt him. He knew it wasn’t true and he left anyway. There was almost nothing in his life he regretted as much as that day.

Leia might one day despise him just as much. He laid down beside her in bed. She stirred a little and shifted back towards him the way she always did. It was habit, not forgiveness. He put her hand lightly on her side, his fingers just crossing onto her stomach. He listened to her breathing in the dark. “I’m sorry,” he said aloud, but not loud enough to wake her. I'll try, but it won't be enough.

2. Translation

He stayed close for the first few months while she battled morning sickness and exhaustion. He never enjoyed playing one of her senate guards and standing by while she made small talk with her politician friends, but at least like this he was useful.

They were flying in for yet another meeting when she turned her head toward him. “I think I’d like to see you naked while we’re on Coruscant.”

Boba stared at her from behind his helmet’s visor. She was sitting in the co-pilot’s seat on Slave I, the belt wrapped tightly over her swelling stomach. Her tone was casual. “Okay. But you see that all the time.”

“No, I’ve never seen it before and I want to.” Her expression was completely serious. No dancing light in her eyes, no teasing curl of her lips.

“You saw it this morning,” he insisted.

She was looking at him like he’d grown another head. “Boba, I swear to you I have never seen that play.”

“...Play?”

“Yes! You, Naked is a play about the life of Valdorr Sunspar. The artist?”

He should have been able to get it from context clues, even if he had no idea who the fek Valdorr Sunspar was. He braced himself for laughter, but it never came.

Instead Leia leaned forward and pulled up the holonet on the console. “Here. This mural is his most famous piece.”

He had seen it before. A smaller version, maybe a faded print hanging on the wall of some cantina. Leia met with educated and powerful people on a daily basis and they often talked about things that sounded like a foreign language to him.

Their lives were so different, with so many different points of reference. One day she would get tired of explaining things to him.

3. The Force

“Look at him, he’s the spittin’ image of ya.” Fenn Shysa swiped at his arm, and for once Boba didn’t try to avoid the blow. The other man’s fist connected hard enough to sting.

Jonah was sleeping the way he never could manage to at night, oblivious to the two men standing over his crib.

“Where’s Leia?” The Mand’alor asked.

“Packing.”

She was joking about it this morning. “What does one wear to an uninhabited swamp planet?” Boba couldn’t play along. His stomach was a knot of dread. Dagobah wasn’t just a swamp planet. It was where Skywalker trained with a Jedi Master in exile. It was where he wanted to train his sister.

And for once, Leia wasn’t saying no.

“I’ll keep an eye on things while you’re gone,” Fenn said. “Don’t worry.”

Mandalore was just one more thing Leia could cast aside if she chose to follow her brother’s path. She would take Jonah with her. He might look more like Boba in coloring and features but he was Leia’s son in one crucial way.

He was like them.

4. Competition

“Come on Jonah. You can do it.” Leia stretched out her arms, her fingertips just short of the toddler’s reach.

“Maybe he’s not ready to walk yet.”

“He can cross the living room with alarming speed when he has furniture to hold on to,” Leia retorted. “Trust me. He’s ready.” Jonah slowly let go of the chair back and Leia dropped to her knees, her arms still outstretched. “That’s it. Walk to Mama.”

Jonah took one determined step forward, pivoted and took four steps until he collided with Boba’s knee. “Da!” He crowed, reaching up. It was so sudden Boba almost forgot to act surprised.

“I guess you’re right,” he said as he gathered the boy up. Jonah had taken his first step two days ago while Leia was still at the Galactic Summit on Sullust. “He is ready.”

Leia sighed, her hands dropping into her lap. “I gave birth to you, you little traitor.”

“Do you want to try again? Maybe he’ll walk to you this time.” Boba started to put him down, but Leia was already rising to her feet.

“No, don’t push him. We’ll have lots of time to work on it while you're working next week.” She kissed Jonah’s round cheek and he giggled. “But you can give him his bath and put him to bed tonight since the two of you are such a good team.” Her commlink chirped and she picked it up. A warm smile crossed her face, and her lips compressed as if she was holding in a laugh.

“Your brother?”

“No. Remember Isolder? From Hapes?”

“The prince.” The prince who wanted to marry Leia and make her queen of Hapes. “His mother hasn’t killed him yet?”

“No. She was deposed and now we’re working together on this new energy bill.”

After she left the room Jonah reached up and patted Boba’s cheek. “Da. Dada.”

“Our job is to make her happy,” he reminded his son. He lifted him up and turned him upside down as he squealed happily. “And speaking of that, you’re going to bed early tonight.”

5. Independence

“Did he fall asleep?”

“Yes. Jonah did too.” Leia climbed into bed beside him and flopped back on her pillow with a weary sigh. “We’ll take him to the med center tomorrow. He’s malnourished and there could be other delays. We should try to get as much information as we can so we know what kind of support he’ll need.”

It was reassuring to know that she was making plans for their newly adopted son. Boba turned to his side to face her. “What made you change your mind?”

“You didn’t exactly give me a choice.” Anger rippled through her voice, reminding him that he was very much still in the strillhouse.

“I said I was-”

She turned and her fingers covered his mouth. “I appreciate your apology. I do. But I’m still furious that you adopted a child without asking me. We have to make these decisions together.”

He caught her hand and kissed her palm. “You’re right.”

“No.” She pulled her hand away. “That’s not going to work this time. I’m going to be angry for a while and you’re going to have to deal with it. Do I make myself clear?”

“You do.”

“Good,” she continued in the same hard tone. “Also I’m very proud of you. It doesn’t make me feel any better but I want you to know that.” Leia turned away, pulling the blankets with her.

“Is there anything I can do?”

“You can lie awake all night and think about how you screwed up.”

Fierfek. She knew him too well.

5. Success

They stood in the wreckage of the courtyard, three senators, a traitor and Boba Fett.

“We could just agree to keep quiet about it.” Senator Pooja Naberrie looked at Leia and then at him. She didn’t even need to say it out loud. After years of “keeping it quiet” her colleagues finally knew the truth.

Leia frowned, weighing her options.

It wasn’t going to go well. Her friends and her rivals would use him as an excuse to discredit her and to question her judgement. He was, as he’d told her long ago, a liability. But when he looked around the courtyard again at the homemade explosives she used to defend herself with, he felt nothing but calm.

“If I ask you to keep quiet now then it’s a cover-up,” Leia observed. “And a ticking time bomb. Boba?” She turned to him. The front of her dress was torn and stained with blood.

We have to make these decisions together.

“I know what I signed up for.”

Her shoulders relaxed a little and there was a warmth in her eyes that felt like an embrace. “Thank you,” she said. The adoring look wasn’t just for him, it was for the people standing in this courtyard with them wondering why the hell she was married to him.

He turned his attention to his prisoner. One quick stop in Coruscant to deliver the traitor and then they could pick up the boys. Maybe a small vacation was in order, to ride out the worst of the publicity. A little family time.

Whatever happened, they would face it together.

[the-chick-of-the-air]

Hello my lovelies!!

Ok let me just start by saying- 600 followers?! Are you kidding?? Thank you all SO much! I can’t even begin to describe how grateful I am to have every single one of you interested enough in my blog to be following me! Thank you thank you thank you!!!🥰🥰

Now I’m gonna repay you by breaking your hearts!

This is my first try at anything super angsty, so if your gonna yell at me afterwards please feel free to do so in the comments or in my ask box or even just reblogging and cursing me in the tags🤣 please let me know what you think!

TW: Major character death, mentions of vomiting and allusions to body mutilation- nothing graphic just vaguely indicated but whatever you are comfortable with is up to you! If any of what I warned makes you uncomfortable please don’t read! Your mental health is more important than a work of fiction!

Update: I’m sorry- I posted this and for some reason the tag list wasn’t working but it should be now! If your username has changed please let me know so I can tag you properly down below!❤️

Summary: Someone important dies. Cardan deals with it. Grab your tissues❤️

Final Resting Place

“I’m…I’m so sorry.” The folk are not in the habit of apologizing, much less for something that is so common. It matters not, Cardan has ceased listening, has heard nothing after The Bomb uttered those damning words.

Jude is dead.

He recalls, distantly, a time when Nicasia drug him halfway to her underwater kingdom, wishing to show him its beauty and splendor. He recalls how helpless he felt, how he could breathe but it wasn’t right. How he was silenced and the pressure from the water was crushing his chest so painfully it didn’t matter if he could breathe or not.

This feels near exactly like that.

“Your Highness?” Someone is asking a question he doesn’t hear. He doesn’t even ask them to repeat themselves. All he can do is state,

“She is to be brought back here. Burned on the pyres.” A Queen’s funeral. The only funerals the folk bothered to observe.

Someone, The Roach, likely, grunts in disapproval, “She… we…are not able to bring the body back. It was…”

Cardan isn’t sure what part of that statement makes his stomach churn the worst, the fact that they just referred to his wife, their queen as a body, or the fact that there apparently isn’t too much of her body to bring back.

He tries not to think, not to guess at what death was so brutal that she doesn’t even have a body left.

And that really is it, isn’t it? She, his fierce, vibrant, deadly queen, who always looked over her shoulder, is- was always so cautious, secretly ruling over a land that was designed to kill her, the mighty Jude Duarte, slayer of the folk-

Killed by something mortal.

In the mortal lands.

Where he sent her.

It was almost laughable, Cardan did laugh. Hysteria bubbling up in his chest like bile, which it might have been because suddenly the churning in his stomach was no longer violent but imminent and he’s throwing himself into the bathing chamber.

He doesn’t hear the court of shadows, her court of shadows, retreating as he retches into the chamber pot.

~.~

Time has lost all meaning.

It’s been days, weeks, months. The days pass in a blur, marked only by those who knew what she meant to him coming to give their condolences. Like it could lessen the pain of her being gone. Lessen the pain that came with the knowledge that this was his fault.

It was so ironic it hurt. Had he not exiled her to the mortal lands for her protection, she would have still been alive, ruling where she belonged, right by his side.

And now, she would never get to rule her kingdom openly. She would never share his throne, his crown, his name, his bed again.

She was gone before he got to have her.

And it was his own damn fault.

He refused to hold any audience with Taryn. It wasn’t fair, her twin was dead and she was parading around wearing her face. He knew that should he take one look at her, he would break beyond recognition.

The only thing keeping him alive on the throne being Jude’s memory, how she would have wanted, commanded him to keep ruling, even if she wasn’t there to do it with him.

He did allow an audience with Viviane, once. She had all but demanded it and would hardly take no for an answer. She arrived, eyes puffy and bloodshot, looking as terrible as he felt which didn’t seem fair either.

He wanted to be alone in his pain, for it to be all his own, because no one could understand, could relate to how he felt for her. Why should they share in his grief? The newest plate of armor he has cast over his heart?

She wasted no time on condolences, which in itself was strangely comforting. She got straight to the point, “You missed the funeral.”

“A mortal tradition.” His voice was hoarse with disuse. Had he gone so long without speaking to anyone? That didn’t seem possible.

“Dammit Cardan! She would have wanted you there.” Her anger was refreshing, a nice change of pace compared to the complete emptiness that was left behind in the shape of a mortal footprint upon his heart.

He almost wants to disagree, but that would make no sense. The folk can’t lie, not even half-fae.

When he doesn’t respond, Vivi crosses her arms, “Will you at least come visit her? Say your goodbyes? You have to say yes, we both know you need it.”

And painful as it was, she was right. The one thing that hurt worse than Jude being dead, knowing that it was because of him, was that he didn’t get to say goodbye. That all his letters to her went unanswered. That she died without knowing how much he needed her. How much he missed her and all she was to him. How much he…

Swallowing past the lump in his throat, he silently rises and follows Vivi to his queen’s final resting place.

~.~

The mortal world is bright and loud and reeks of iron and is so alive it feels audacious. How dare anyone else continue living when someone from this place, someone so important, so above them was forced to forfeit that right?

The plot of land where she- what’s left of her- is laid to rest is small. The headstone sits, new and clean, next to two more that are dulled with age.

Justin and Eva Duarte.

Madoc had somehow procured graves for the two mortals he slaughtered, and now their youngest daughter lay beside them.

They are standing there for ten minutes before Vivi speaks, “You know, when someone visits the grave of someone they love, they usually look at it.” Her voice is monotone as she stares at the slab of stone sitting at the head of a patch of newly sprouted grass.

He’s not sure he can. If he looks, if he sees there is in fact a final stop, a final holding place for this restless mortal, then he will know it is real. That this wasn’t all some elaborate trick or punishment of her own making to get back at him for her banishment.

Foolish as it is, that was a dark hope buried deep inside him. That she was really still there, biding her time, waiting until he was just ruined enough to waltz back into his life to teach him a well deserved lesson. Perhaps on gratitude, on not taking things for granted.

It would be such a Jude thing to do.

A hand rests on his shoulder and he nearly flinches away, “I’ll give you a minute.”

Her footsteps recede, utterly fae and silent. So unlike the ones he desperately wishes to hear a final time.

It takes him maybe two minutes more for his eyes to finally find the headstone. He is shocked to find he can barely read what is inscribed upon it through tears that have filled his eyes.

Jude Duarte-Greenbriar

Beloved sister and wife

2001-2019

His tears come in earnest, then. How had he never known she took his name as well? Had cared enough to do so? Or was this something her sisters did to spite him? He pressed his lips together in an attempt to stifle any sobs trying to break free.

Cautiously, so cautious she would be proud, he runs his fingers over the inscription of her name- their name. When he knows his voice will be steady, he speaks.

“Well, wife.” He presses his eyes closed as a fresh wave of tears pushes at his senses, “I doubt either of us saw it coming to this.” Gently, he tugs something out of the satchel he brought with him.

“It was yours. For you to wear upon your return. For when you came home.” He couldn’t stop his voice from breaking as he carefully laid the crown down at the foot of the headstone, glamoured so mortals would see it as a pile of painted rocks.

“I guess in a way, I got what you thought I wanted. For you to…” He can’t even bring himself to say it. He had never wanted this. When in palace lessons, he thought that dreams plagued with her scent, her voice, her touch had been the most horrid nightmares. He was wrong, this was far worse than any dream he had of her angry face, her soft hair. This was a nightmare terrifying enough to cripple the strongest of men.

“Well. I guess it doesn’t matter now. It doesn’t matter that I wish I could take back what I said about you in our childhood. That you would return to the earth, worm food.” He shudders, recalling that he had said those things while imagining that they would have followed a long life. One filled with her aging slowly due to living in Elfhame. Secret imaginings he only allowed himself in the darkest hours of the night- ones where he was by her side and they wreaked havoc together for the rest of their long, full lives. His next words are whispered, “I never imagined it would happen so soon.”

His hand returns to the headstone, gripping the cool rock tightly.

There is nothing left to say aside from one final message. Nothing left to do other than leave this place and continue on in his immortality, letting her fade into the backs of everyone’s memory as the Last Mortal Queen.

Taking a final shaky breath, Cardan utters the truth he had spent nearly his whole life repressing, trying to lie his way around. The words he now so desperately wishes he had said to her before he cast her out of their home in hopes of preventing this very thing from happening.

With one final look upon the place his wife, his queen is forever to rest upon, he whispers,

“I love you.”

~.~

Years and years and years later, young children of the gentry sit in their history lessons amongst their mortal classmates, and learn of the beautiful, treacherous life that was led by the Last Mortal Queen, Jude Duarte-Greenbriar

And that is that! Did I make you cry? Do you want to throw crumpled tissues at my head? Let me know!❤️ (I left out details of Jude’s death on purpose, it’s up to your imagination to come up with what happened to her, sorry for pain😬)

Tag list:

As always, please let me know through the comments or my inbox or any other way you are comfortable with and let me know if you wish to be added to my list so you can be alerted to my future works!

@maleckanejnessienjurdansolangelo @woodsbeyond1 @cardan-greenbriar-tcp @thewickedkings @aneurwin @snusbandxknifewife @jurdanhell @andromeddea @dressedindustandshadows @thesirenwashere @b00kworm @hizqueen4life @unidentifiedblackthorn @iminsanenotobsessed @df3ndyr @brittneyal @aelin-queen-of-terrasen @thefolkofthefic @yafandomsdotnet @fuzzypineapples-blog @nahthanks @charrise @thefolkofthefic @theviolettulip @embersfromink @kittkatandbooboo

Till next time, loves!🥰

[amintyworld]

Goodbye - (SBI Inc.) World War II AU

A/N: Hey guys! So... this is actually part of a bunch of fics I was making for some of my mutuals, and at first, I wanted to post them together, but I soon realized with my own creativity and motivation, not to mention constant burnout, it was more just wishful thinking.

This fic is a gift for my friend and mutual, Cam (@bones-sprouts)! They're an awesome person for me to rant to about AUs or other fic ideas, so if you can check out their awesome blog and give a follow if you'd like. I hope you enjoy it because I'm actually really proud of how this turned out! <3 - Minty

Edit: Forgot Taglist.

Summary: Phil works in the coal factories, his wife Kristen with the sewing machines. No matter how hard they work, there never seems to be enough money. What will happen when a World War rises on the horizon?

TW: Bomb mention, Implied death mention, injury (No blood or gore tho). (Let me know if I need to tag anything else!)

-------------------------

Phil remembered when it was all just rumors. After all, one couldn’t help but get bored within the tedious factory jobs. Hauling coal from one place to another, scooping it into the fireplaces - minds always began to drift. Gossip was whispered with bated breath under watchful eyes. Phil had heard it all - some true, most of them, however... complete fibs. He guessed that’s why he didn’t believe it at first when there were talks of war. There were always talks of war, but after the World War a while back, Phil thought it was stupid anyone would dare try to repeat it. The leaders were smarter than that, he thought to himself.

Besides, he had other things to worry about. Wilbur needed a new winter coat for the season. He’d been going through another growth spurt over the summer and had, unfortunately, outgrew his one from last year. They’d been saving to buy a new one, and his old one was given to his younger brother, Tommy. Funnily enough, the coat was extremely big and baggy on the ten-year-old, so much so he kept tripping and falling to the floor. Kristen kept pinning it up, though it never seemed to help much. He remembered one night telling Wilbur with a chuckle he was getting too tall and Tommy was getting too small. Tommy had grumbled angrily in a way only small children could do, puffing his chest out and proclaiming himself a ‘big man’. Kristen had smiled and laughed throughout it all, and when Tommy yawned she picked him up and carried him off to bed.

Money was always a tight issue, but Phil had the wisdom never to bring it up in front of his sons. Instead, he talked about stories of adventure-seeking pirates or brave warriors in hushed tones at night when the roof began to leak and they huddled together in thin blankets during the winter. Phil’s heart always swelled when Tommy’s eyes would light up in curiosity at the stories, at another world full of hope and things that Phil could only wish to provide them. One day, he promised himself, one day he would give them everything they deserved. Everything they’d wished for upon stars or whispered to themselves at night when they thought no one was listening. One day.

Phil remembered once when Wilbur was not much older than Tommy, he’d asked him if he could work with him in the factories. They had barely been able to afford the school fee that year, and Wilbur had started school a month behind his classmates because of it. When Phil had quickly tried to dismiss the idea Wilbur’s mouth had pressed in a thin line.

‘I can do it, Dad. Let me do it. I want to help.’

Phil’s hand had absentmindedly moved to trace around the scar in his calloused palm. When he first started, the manager put him near the machines, with the task to flip the lever and run them when the ribbon was on target. He flipped the switch before realizing it wasn’t on target, and when he moved the ribbon - the machine was merciless. He’d thought about Wil doing that, the machines, hauling pounds of coal up a hill, and he realized that he’d rather die working in the factories than accept the help. The money wouldn’t be worth it, the money would never be worth his life. Never in a million years.

No matter what, he’d always protect them. That was never a question on Phil’s mind.

When the orders came there was never any doubt about what he needed to do. There was never any hesitation. They needed to be safe. They needed to survive. When he told Kristen he held back tears, but his wife knew him better than anyone, cutting him off with a small loving embrace. Emotion welled up in Phil’s throat as he returned the hug, and the two stood in their cramped dining room like that for a while, the opened letter left scattered on the stained wooden table. Phil’s gaze drifted toward the couch where the two boys lay sprawled on top of each other, covered by a single blanket, asleep. For a moment, just a moment, Phil wanted to keep them like that forever - blissfully in that perfect moment of peace. But, Phil couldn’t do anything. A war was coming.

“We’ll get through this together.” Kristen had promised him. Phil hoped she was right.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

The train howled in the distance. Millions of families rushed to and fro on the platform, volunteers and teachers hoisted the smaller children into the train. Conductors shouted, and the entire train platform was bathed in a large gust of steam. In the middle of all the chaos stood Phil, Kristen, and their two children.

“Okay boys, let’s go through this one more time,” Phil said, getting down more on their level, and trying his best to maintain a smile. “When you get on the train, stay in your seats. Make sure not to lose your bags, and try not to cause any trouble. Listen to the volunteers, yeah?” Wilbur nodded, and Phil noticed Tommy looking around in curiosity at all those passing by. He snapped his fingers, turning the ten-year-old’s attention back on him. “Tommy?”

“Uh-huh?”

“What did I just say?”

“Uhm… don’t pull any pranks?”

“Yes, don’t cause any trouble, Tommy. This is serious. There’s a lot of people, I don’t want you to get lost okay?”

“Okay.”

Phil looked over at his oldest, clutching the suitcase in his hands tightly, a tag around his neck matching his brothers’. He’d been quiet since Phil had told them both the situation a day ago, and rushed off to help Phil get everything they needed from the list - they barely afforded getting the essentials. Money saved up for Wilbur’s new coat went to bars of soap, stockings, slippers, and handkerchiefs. Phil had given Wilbur his own, saying he’d be fine without one for the winter and they’d be able to afford another in no time. “Look out for him, alright?” While the two shared a brief moment together, Kristen was leaning down toward the child, spotting a bit of dirt on his cheek she was determined to get rid of. Tommy protested and squirmed from her grip as she smiled, holding back as laugh and keeping him still. Wilbur looked over at the two, smiling fondly.

“I will, Dad. I promise.”

Phil couldn’t help but be overcome with pride for his eldest, a small smile on his face. He grew up way too fast - where was that small boy who was always propped up on his shoulders and sang beautiful songs deep into the night, eyes shining with happiness? There were still traces of that same glimmer in Wilbur’s eyes, signs that those dreams and that hope were still alive, and to Phil that was all that mattered. He grew and became so responsible, so capable of anything and everything. At that moment, seeing him, he remembered that strong feeling of pride. Phil had every confidence in him, no matter what the future might hold.

He reached into his coat pocket for the letter, before taking in his eldest for what would be the last time for a while. His hand lightly brushed through that curly brown hair that always fell over his eyes, moving down to cup his cheek and look into those dark eyes that were so much like his mother’s - deep pools of infinite. “I hope you know how much I love you, Wilbur.”

“I do… I mean,” Wilbur stumbled, looking down at the ground. “I..I know, Dad.”

Phil nodded, pressing a small kiss to his son’s forehead. “Good.” He handed out the folded piece of paper with a name scribbled on it - Technoblade. “You’ll be staying with an old friend of mine, he knows me well and I trust him. Be on your best behavior.”

“Right,” Wilbur confirmed, looking over the name for a moment before sliding the piece of paper in his bag. “Does he... know we’re coming?”

“Well, uhm… no…?”

“No?”

“Just give him the letter, it’ll explain everything. He owes me.”

Tommy rushed over, seemingly running from Kristen who simply giggled. “Papa!” Phil’s smile widened at the exchange.

“Come here you little squirt!” Phil’s heart lit up as he scooped up the smaller child in his arms, Tommy laughing with a playful shriek as he did so. “What’s wrong, mate?”

“Mama keeps scrubbing my face, it hurts!” Tommy accused, to which Kristen rolled her eyes with a smile.

“You’ve got dirt all over your face, honey-”

The train howled once more, sending all of them to silence. One of the conductors at the train car around ten or so feet from them shouted: “All aboard! All aboard who’s coming aboard!” Phil looked between the two of them.

“Let’s get you two settled, yeah?” They passed through the crowd toward the conductor. At this point many of the parents were already gone or standing a far distance from the track itself, seeing their children off. He slowly lowered Tommy off his hip and into the step. “I’ve got two kids here for the train, they’ve got their cards and items.” Phil gently moved Wilbur in front of him as he spoke. The man, in a bit of a hurry, snatched Tommy’s tag, almost making the child lose his balance as he glanced at it. Phil heaved Tommy’s shoulder bag, packed with things, into the steps with him. “He’s good. You had another?”

“Yes, my oldest, Wilbur. Please make sure, if you can find them a seat together.” The conductor looked Wilbur over before checking his tag as well.

“Will do, but I don’t make any promises.” He nodded at the tag. “He’s a good chap too. Let’s go, we’ve got a schedule.”

Tommy hugged his father around the neck. “Love you Papa. Love you Mama.”

“Love you, Toms.” Phil smiled, as Kristen leaned over and kissed him on the forehead, making the smaller child giggle. Wilbur was already picking up his younger brother’s things and sliding the bag over his shoulder.

“Bye!” Tommy waved as he followed behind the conductor.

“Bye.” Wilbur waved behind him. “I love you.”

And… just like that, they were gone. Phil held Kristen’s hands as they watched their two sons leave in a cloud of steam, chugging away toward the countryside. Going someplace safe. Kristen began to tear up and Phil held her close in comfort. Now, it was a waiting game of fate. A waiting game for the foretold bomb. A waiting game to die.

—————————

General Writing Taglist (LMK if you want to be added/removed):

@bones-sprouts

@foolishcaptains

@benzel

[tenspontaneite]

Beyond the Moon Gardens - Extracts (1)

For lack of anything else to post today, I’m releasing some extracts from one of my non-public fanfictions – Beyond the Moon Gardens – as my participation in the @raayllum valentine’s event.

Information on and context of the story itself is below the cut. The 10k of snippets are also below the cut.

(General overview of the content of the snippets: established rayllum, fluff, domesticity, horn care, silliness, cuddling.)

-

Story information:

‘Beyond the Moon Gardens’ is a successor to ‘In the Moon Gardens’. The former was written in a month in late 2020, and has been worked on sporadically since. The latter was written in approximately three weeks between December 2019 and January 2020. Both are currently incomplete. I do not intend to publish either to the public in full, but may well post further extracts in time.

‘In the Moon Gardens’ is a story about Callum and Rayla getting married; however, the circumstances are deeply unpleasant and the experience is traumatic. ‘Beyond the Moon Gardens’ is considerably longer, and is focused on trauma recovery, hurt/comfort, relationship development, and fluff. The story is structured around a plotline involving rescue and disaster relief efforts in a Sunfire elf city called Lux Marea.

All snippets presented below take place on day 7 of the story’s timeline. They have been carefully curated for fluffiness for the purposes of Valentine’s day, and do not contain any of the hurt/comfort or post-traumatic scenes prevalent in the story at large. Some extracts have been edited to slot together and minimise empty space.

I may potentially post further snippets throughout the week if people are interested.

-

The extracts:

(Snippet 1: domesticity, fluff, city descriptions. Context: Callum and Rayla are staying in fancy diplomatic quarters in the city, where they arrived somewhat earlier in the day.)

Rayla turned away from her reflection and went for the door.

She glanced around, and found Callum in his own robe sat at the sofa in front of the window. Surprisingly, he wasn’t drawing. He was just staring out across the city, looking pensive.

“Not drawing?” She asked, and he startled, looking up at her in surprise.

He blinked. “Oh. I didn’t hear you.” He said sheepishly as she approached.

She snorted, and moved around the sofa’s edge to plant herself down beside him. “So I noticed.”

Callum smiled at her, looking for all the world like the best thing that had happened to him today was her sitting down next to him, eyes settling on her like he’d be perfectly happy to do nothing but look at her forever. She withstood that expression for only a single second before she had to lean in and kiss him. He made a pleased sound, reaching out to rest a hand on her back, fingers stroking reflexively over the thick wool of the robe. “You smell nice.” He said happily, turning his face sideways to tuck his nose behind her ear. He was undoubtedly getting a face full of wet hair that way, but he didn’t seem to mind. “Fruity, sort of.”

“They’ve got a lot of soaps in there.” She said, and her voice came out more soft than amused. Stars, but she loved him. “It’s nice. There’s all these soaps, and towels, and I think bath oils too.”

“You think?” He inquired, curious, still with his face in her neck. He pressed a kiss to her damp skin.

“Didn’t check them out properly or anything, but there was a drawer full of some fancy stuff. Bottles and the like. Looked like it might be bath oils.”

With a final kiss to the edge of her jaw, he pulled back to resume staring at her contentedly. “We’ll have to have a look later.” He said, and paused to give her an appreciative once-over. “That dressing gown looks nice on you.”

She rolled her eyes. “You say that about literally everything I wear.”

“That’s because you look good in everything.” He claimed staunchly, and honestly, he wasn’t looking half-bad in his dressing-gown either. The colour was familiar on him, but the casual comfortableness of it was weirdly pleasing to look at. Made him look cosy and cuddlable.

Rayla shook her head, then leaned in to kiss briefly along his jaw. It prickled a little. “You might want to see if they’ve got razors in there.” She said dryly. “You’re starting to prickle.”

He blinked, startled, and raised a hand to his jaw, feeling along it. Mercifully, he grew facial hair extremely slowly, making it less of an issue on the move, but it did still grow. He’d last made an attempt at shaving some two weeks ago, and that had sufficed up to now. “Elves don’t grow beards, though.” He said, after a moment. “I’d probably better just stick with mine.”

Once or twice, they’d made an attempt at shaving his bristles with Rayla’s swords, which had been kind of nerve-wracking, and plenty memorable. For lack of proper razors to be found in Xadia, they’d eventually ended up getting him a small knife that he claimed was alike enough to a ‘straight razor’ to work, though it periodically needed to be sharpened to an absurd degree. It was all very strange to her, even after a good half year of living with him. “Maybe.” She agreed at last, and gave him a sniff. Fresh from bathing, his state of uncleanliness was far more obvious to her nose than it had been before. “You should be getting washed up first though. You’ll make your dressing gown stink.”

He snickered. “Bet I reek to you now that you’re clean.”

“Just a tad.” She prodded him in the side until he started moving. “Off with you. Wash up.”

Evading her hands, he leaned in and planted a final kiss on her forehead before leaving, disappearing into the bathroom while she shook her head at him. She heard the water start up quite soon after, and eventually ended up staring out of the window like he had.

The city was still bright, both with sunlight and with the ongoing glory of the temple’s radiance. Settling into a sort of quiet lassitude, she watched it with eyes half-lidded, following the patterns of steaming light as though the smoke from a fire.

It was a striking city. Unlike Lux Aurea, which was so much gold it hurt to look at, Lux Marea was a thing of contrasts. The buildings were all built from the same dark stone as the bathroom had been done in, a grey that cast deep black shadows behind the gaze of the sun. And yet – every building was lined with gold. Accents on the corners, or moulding between the bricks, or running in thick channels up the walls…it gleamed, rich and distinct against the stone. Some of the largest, richest buildings had elaborate golden murals on their sides, luridly metallic and shining in the sun. All of that gold was glowing with magic now.

Rayla wasn’t much for aesthetics. But even she could appreciate the beauty in that view. She watched it for a while longer, lulled a little by the twisting patterns of glowing haze rising from the buildings, then stood and went to find something to do.

 -

 (Snippet 2: Calum and Rayla investigate the supplies their fancy bathroom is stocked with, discover bath bombs and are confused, Rayla points out various horn-care items, and Callum makes her very flustered by offering to use said items)

  After that, they went through and classified each of the mysterious drawer goodies a little faster. They found more varieties of lotion, some weird nearly liquid soaps, and a pot of some mysterious mini chalky spheres whose purpose neither of them managed to guess until Callum’s hair dripped on one and it sizzled. “Is it supposed to go in water?” Rayla wondered, befuddled.

“No idea. Try it.” He suggested, and they took the rinsing pot, filled it with water, and dropped the thing in. It fizzed and foamed magnificently, releasing pleasant odours and bits of dried flower as it dissolved, and both of them stared at it with fascinated consternation.

“Is that for baths?” She asked him, befuddled. “What’s the point?”

“…Fun, maybe?” He offered, reaching out to swirl a finger in the foam. “It looked pretty cool, after all. Maybe you’re supposed to throw them in the bath for the fun of it?”

“Fun foam and nice smells?” With a huff, she put that pot aside as something to maybe experiment with if she felt like it. “Well, maybe.” She snorted, and in the last unexplored corner, found something highly important. “Oh thank god.” She said, in that way she’d absolutely picked up from Callum, and he looked over with interest.

“What did you find?”

She brandished it triumphantly. “Toothbrushes.”

“Oh thank god.” He echoed instantly, peering over. “My teeth feel disgusting.”

“You’re not the only one.” She withdrew both toothbrushes from the drawer and set them aside. “Well, at least we know what everything in there is now. Mystery solved.” She went to close it, but was stopped with a hand on her wrist.

“Wait, but what about those?” he asked, indicating the small collection of things she’d already set to one side of the drawer with the horn-scrub.

“Oh.” She’d forgotten he wouldn’t know those on sight. “Right. Well, this thing here-“ She plucked up a narrow, vaguely curved implement with a soft-smooth coating. “-is a horn buffer. For making horns smoother once you’ve already scrubbed all the rough bits out with a proper scrub.” She planted it in his hands, since he seemed fascinated by it, and withdrew a sort of soft spongey thing with a texture like felt. “Horn polisher. Same thing, kind of.” He took that as well, and she pulled out a pot of thick paste that turned out to be exactly what she thought it was when she uncapped it. This one had obviously attempted to smell as pleasant as possible, but it still had a very strong and distinctive edge to it. She wrinkled her nose. “Horn polish.” She said, closing it up again. “To be applied and used with the polisher. And lastly-“ She picked up one of the remaining bottles, “horn oil.”

He looked weirdly interested. “What’s the oil for?” He asked, leaning in. “I mean, I guess the rest of it’s to make your horns smooth and shiny, right? So what about this?”

“It’s kind of fancy and unnecessary, and expensive, so not everyone uses it, but usually you put it on after scrubbing or polishing.” She explained, withdrawing the bottles one at a time. “They smell nice, which is good after the polish, and letting it sink into the horns is supposed to make them healthier and glossier-looking. You can technically put it on multiple times a day if you’re really into your horn presentation, but pretty much no one bothers.”

“Because it’s expensive?” Callum guessed, and she made a so-so noise.

“Well, there’s that.” She said dryly. “But it’s just kind of a lot of hassle, you know? If you’re already washing and doing your hair and keeping your horns not-gross, it’s just extra fuss you don’t really need.” She shook her head. “It’s less effort than full on polishing, I suppose, but I’ve never been bothered about polishing my horns except on special occasions anyway. It’s a lot of work.”

“Huh.” He said, in a sort of weird tone of voice. Rayla turned to him, and found his expression similarly strange. Thoughtful, interested, and a little bit furtive.

She eyed him suspiciously, picked up an armful of the supplies they’d set aside, and stood up with them. “What’s that look for?” She asked archly, setting things onto the broad side of the bath. He followed her lead, picking up the rest of it and standing, looking a little shifty.

“What’s what look for?” he asked innocently, putting it all out in neat rows.

“I know that face.” She told him, unimpressed. “I’ve told you so many times I know that face. That’s your dumb idea face. So out with it.”

For a moment, Callum looked sheepish. Then he cleared his throat, and looked at her, and she reflexively fell silent. “I…was wondering if you’d let me do your horns.” He said at last, and she made a strangled noise in the back of her throat.

“What?”

  -

 (Snippet 3: tail end of the horn-care discussion, domesticity, Rayla bemused by the concept of room service, Callum pestering Rayla for details on how horn care works, and discussion of one of Rayla’s newer hobbies)

 “That’ll be nice, then.” He said, sounding very at peace with the idea. “I can wash and comb out your hair, maybe. Give you some hornrubs.”

Her cheeks heated. “Callum.” She complained. “That’s so sappy.”

He pressed his face close alongside hers, and she could feel his smile against her cheek. “Treat you real good.” He said, very contentedly. “I’m gonna spoil you rotten.”

Rayla managed a strangled, deeply embarrassed sound in the back of her throat. A little indignant, she protested “You can’t just say things like that.”

“I can, and I did.” Callum grinned against her skin, and leaned in further to kiss her near the corner of her lips. “Love you.” He lifted a hand from around her waist, fingers settling at her jaw with a gentle suggestion of movement. Feeling near to bursting with mortification and adoration, she grumbled wordlessly but followed his hand, allowing him to lead her face around so he could kiss her on the mouth.

“You,” she muttered, into his lips, “need to get dressed.”

He paused, then huffed a surprised breath over her skin. “That’s right, I’m still just wearing a towel.” He remembered, ruefully. “At least I’m drier now.”

“It’s been ages, of course you’re drier.” Rayla shook her head at him, then nudged at his arms until he let her go, extricating herself from his embrace. She had difficulty looking him in the eye when she turned, after all of that. “…Get dressed.” She repeated, softer, and shoved the dressing gown he’d hung nearby into his arms. She leaned in, kissed him once on the lips, and then turned away to leave the bathroom.

She settled on the sofa, ensconcing herself beneath the soft blanket she’d found, and stared out at the city while her heart recovered. Sometimes, she loved Callum enough that it was a little hard to cope with, like she was afraid that the emotion in her would rupture if it built too far. He was used to her retreating a little at times like that, just long enough to breathe and feel slightly less overwhelmed.

He took long enough in the bathroom that, eventually, she guessed that he was shaving. That disappointed her, a little. She liked to watch him when he shaved. It was always so strange to her, something quintessentially human; a bizarre banal grooming ritual that reminded her again and again that he wasn’t an elf, he really was a whole different kind of being to her, and his humanity was made of so many little things. He never failed to chuckle at her for how she watched him shaving, but had grown very used to her keeping him company for it.

She sighed, and looked out on the city under the sun, and regained her emotional footing. By the time he emerged, clad once again in the dark red dressing gown, she had her equilibrium back and looked up gladly at his return.

“Where’d this blanket come from?” He asked, bemused, coming over to join her. She held one end up so he could sit down under it with her.

“One of the drawers. There’s a bunch of stuff in here.” She informed, and once he was seated she didn’t waste any time in reaching out to run her fingers along his still-damp jaw. It was so smooth. She murmured, pleased, cupping his face between both hands.

He coloured a little, looking across at her with soft eyes. “You’re so weird.” He told her, sounding utterly besotted, and she leaned in to kiss him lightly along that jawline.

“Love you.” Rayla said contentedly, and drew back just enough to nestle firmly against his side. He wove an arm around her back and turned his head to kiss her at the brow.

“Love you too.”

After a good bit of cuddling and watching the city together, Callum admitted to wanting a drink and Rayla to not knowing whether their waterskins were still filled. They were, as it happened, but-

“You know, if you wanted fresher water, or moonberry juice, we could just ask for it.” He pointed out. “All we’d have to do is open the door and ring a bell and someone would come up, and we’d ask for a drink, and they’d have it up for us just like that.”

She shook her head, utterly exasperated at the idea. “That’s so weird.” She said, and then actually considered it. “…Let’s do it.”

He laughed, and obligingly got up and went to the receiving room to fetch the bell. He mostly-closed the intervening door for her sake, so that when a servant responded to the ring she didn’t feel particularly on edge about it. They couldn’t see her. It was fine.

After a short conversation with the servant, they were off, and Callum shut the outer door before returning. “Five minutes.” He said, and true to his words, there was a knock at the door not too much later. He went to answer it and brought back an actual platter, balancing an entire jug of moonberry juice, an entire jug of water, and two glasses.

“Did you ask for a whole jug?” She asked, disbelievingly, as he set it down on the low table ahead of the sofa. “Or the water?”

“Nope. Actually, they passed along their apologies for not leaving a jug of water in here in the first place. Apparently that’s their usual thing to do, but since they were hurrying for us it got forgot.” He poured her a glass of juice, and then some for himself, and sat back.

She snorted. “What a terrible standard of service.” She said, mockingly. “I mean really, forgetting to leave us wee little glasses and chilled water, what is this place coming to?”

He snickered at an inopportune moment, very nearly making a mess with the glass he’d been in the process of drinking from. “Don’t say that around Vervain, I think she’d actually explode.”

“Right there on the spot.” Rayla agreed. “It’d make a terrible mess.”

They traded a few light-hearted quips on the subject of the accommodations while they had a drink, then they set it all aside for later. Callum, who was clearly angling for it, managed to get her onto the topic of how exactly a proper horn care-and-polish was supposed to go, and she spent pretty much the entirety of that torn between being increasingly embarrassed and increasingly amused. He was so interested, like she was sharing arcane magical knowledge instead of stupid basic grooming tips.

“I mean, I’ve seen you using your horn-scrub on the road sometimes, to file away rough or flaky bits, right?” He was saying, while she leaned over to lay against his chest. He reflexively put an arm around her even while gesturing with the other one. “You kind of go…with the sort of curvy lines in your horns? Like one at a time?”

“They’re called ridges, Callum.” She informed him, incredibly amused. “And yes. You need to file along them all one by one, and be careful to keep the shape too. If you do it badly you’ll flatten out the tops of the ridges and it looks really stupid.”

He stared down at her horns with fascination, and lowered his gesturing hand to trace the shape of – she presumed – one of her horn-ridges in detail. She made a flustered sort of murmur at him, but he seemed too busy to notice. “Right, so, hm.” He almost seemed to be speaking to himself. “Yeah, if you just file it from the top it’d all flatten out. So you have to sort of work around each one? Following the curve?”

“That’s why Moonshadow horn-scrubs are so much more complicated.” She informed him. “We need the wee fiddly parts to get between all the ridges and file it right without losing the shapes. Takes forever. Our horns are more of a pain than almost any other kind of elf’s.” She grinned up at him. “Unlucky for you.”

“Are you kidding?” He asked, incredulously. “This is great. Means I get so much longer to spend on you. You never let me spoil you enough.”

She processed that, and groaned, burrowing her face into the wool gown over his chest. “You’ll change your tune soon enough.” She muttered, but wasn’t entirely convinced. Callum really was an incredible sap when it came to doing things for her. “It takes so stupidly long.”

“I’m counting on it.” He declared happily, and she huffed.

“You’re ridiculous.” She informed him, and after nearly ten more minutes of him trying to wrangle intricately detailed horn-polishing knowledge out of her, just rolled her eyes and said with exasperation “It’s like polishing armour, Callum. Or boots. You just buff it up, then go at it with polish on the polisher for ages. There’s not much of a trick to it.” She paused, but did add “Gets kind of messy though. The filing stage puts horn dust and bits everywhere, and once you start polishing you get like…murky polish liquid all over your hands. Better put a towel down.”

Eventually, after enough sitting around that the cuddling alone wasn’t engrossing enough anymore, Callum did go and get his sketchbook and immediately sat down to begin producing what Rayla was certain would be the first of many, many drawings of the city. He drew it as seen from above first, and Rayla settled in to watch with half-lidded eyes.

She’d grown very used to spending time watching Callum draw. In large part, this was because he tended to spend a lot of his free time doing it, and she was often around when that happened. It was quite satisfying, to sit there and observe as the shapes on the page took form. But even so…

There was only so much of watching him draw that she could do before she started getting bored. Throughout their journeying, it had rarely got to that point. What with the time constraints of camp-craft and travelling, there’d been little enough spare time that Rayla hadn’t felt compelled to find anything else to do. Now, though, she found with surprise that her fingers were itching for her knives.

“Huh.” She said to herself, with interest, and Callum turned his head to peer at her.

“Hm?”

“My knives.” She said, and then realised this wasn’t especially helpful. “My carving knives. Just realised I’m hankering for them a bit. That’s never really happened before.”

“Oh.” He thought, then looked pleased. “Looks like you’re starting to make a habit of it after all. That’s really nice.”

“Less nice when I don’t actually have the knives.” She snorted, and considered her empty hands.

Rayla, on the whole, tended towards active ways of passing the time. She liked to train, and she liked to exercise, and if Callum was free she always liked to go flying with him. But inevitably, after half a year spent together, there had been plenty of afternoons and evenings in their off-time when she was too tired to go out for training, or Callum was spending time drawing and she wanted to be around him, and she ended up with nothing to do.

He’d been the one to gently pester her into taking up some sort of hobby. At first she’d just grumpily sharpened her weapons over and over again, but with enough work he’d got her to try other things. He’d suggested either knitting or whittling, on the basis that both involved the use of stabby implements, and she was a fan of those. Knitting she hadn’t taken to. But whittling…

At first, she’d just done it because he’d prodded her into it, and she didn’t hate it, and there was nothing better to do, so she might as well. But now, considering her empty hands with consternation, Rayla realised for the first time that she actually kind of wanted to be doing it. When had that happened?

He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Pick up some things in the city tomorrow, maybe.” He suggested, and turned back to his drawing.

“Bit of a waste, when I’ve got a plenty good enough set of knives at home.”

“You don’t need to get a full set. But it could be nice to have a couple of the main ones around, for travelling with.” He shrugged. “You can practice on any random bits of wood, right? So it’s mainly the knives you need.”

She snorted. She’d learned enough to know that the type of wood one chose was, in fact, very important. But…yeah, for messing around like she did, random wood was usually fine. If splintery. “Maybe.” She said in the end, already thinking of the knife she used most. “It’s not a bad idea. Clothes and supplies are the priority, though. So maybe if there’s anything left after that.”

“We’ll need cold-weather gear, if we’re going through the Shiverthorns in winter.” He remarked, and huddled into the blanket like the mere thought was making him cold. “Thick cloaks and stuff.”

“Which are expensive.” She reminded. “And also heavy. It’ll slow you down.”

He shrugged. “I figure that’s okay. We won’t be in a huge hurry to get back, after all.”

  -

 (Snippet 4: Callum and Rayla discuss dinner options, watch the sunset, and investigate the light fixtures. Context: in this story, I worldbuild Sunfire elves as some weird blend of French and Roman.)

  He hummed by way of agreement, and pulled her tighter in to his side. “For now, let’s try not to worry about that.” He said, determinedly. “Today our job is to relax and rest up, and that’s it.”

Rayla sighed, and shifted around to lay part-way across his front, face half into the red wool at his chest. “I can probably do that.”

They cuddled for what actually didn’t end up being that long, because there was a knock at the door. It echoed sharply through the polished wood, even with the intervening door closed. Rayla, who’d heard no footsteps of any kind due to the ostensible soundproofing, stiffened immediately.

Callum blinked, then carefully extricated himself from her. “I’ll go get it.” He said, and she didn’t object. She didn’t relish the thought of being seen by strangers when she was in her bathrobe. That was private.

He unlocked and opened the receiving room door, closed it behind him, and then unlocked and opened the outer door. There was actually a decent degree of sound loss between there and Rayla’s current spot, so she couldn’t hear what was being said beyond stray words. After a while, Callum said something in a distinctly goodbye-ish sort of voice and the encounter ended. He considerately locked both doors for her on his way in.

Over his arm, he was holding a neat stack of clothing and armour. “Already?” She asked, startled, and watched as he set it all down on the bed.

“Already.” He agreed, seemingly pleased. “I guess their drying spells really are useful. Look, they’ve cleaned your armour. And our boots.”

Rayla lifted herself from beneath the blanket to go over and look. All of their things looked fresh and new, bereft of the dull beige hues imbued by travel and sleeping in dust and dirt. It half looked like they’d re-dyed some of it, honestly, to get the clean colours back. She lifted Callum’s scarf from the pile, sniffed it, and hummed at it.

“Laundry smell?” He asked, amused, and she shrugged.

“Unsurprisingly.” She considered putting it on him, but in the end decided she was enjoying the look of him in the bathrobe, all cosy and comfy-looking. “What else were you talking about?”

“Hm?”

“With the servant.”

“Oh.” He paused to collect his thoughts. “Dinner stuff. He wanted to tell me the options they’ve got, so we can order ahead of time.”

Rayla made a thoughtful noise, and drew him by the wrist back over to the sofa again. “And?”

“You want me to list it all off?” She nodded, and obligingly he went off listing the various items on the menu, many of which were evidently examples of bizarre Sunfire ideas about cooking. Snails, really? Frog legs? Her nose wrinkled at that one, and Callum’s lips quirked. “They serve glow toad too.” He admitted ruefully. “I mean, I guess I heard they were delicious, but it’s one thing to hear it and another thing to have it on the menu, you know?”

She made a face. “Ez would never forgive us.”

“Bait would never forgive us.” He agreed, snickering.

“And besides – ew.” Rayla shook her head, and waved her hand. “What else?”

He went through all of the selections, drinks and desserts included, and then finished up by saying “He left a sort of booklet thing behind with it all written down, if you want to look over it.”

She stared at him with exasperation. “Callum. You really just stood there and said it all when you could have just handed me the bloody menu?”

“Well, you did ask.” He said, like this was reasonable, and she sighed fondly at him.

“You dumb prince.” She told him, affectionate, and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek before going to look for the menu.

By this point, it was around four in the afternoon, and the sun seemed to be making a very definite bid for descent. She retrieved the Booklet of Food Options and retreated to the sofa with it, where Callum had already planted himself to watch the city. There was a hint of yellow-green in the bright clear sky, and the angle of light from the sinking sun was casting some particularly dramatic shadows. The temple was still gleaming with light off to the side, and the golden circuitry through the city still exhaling. She stared at it for a moment, certain that tonight’s sunset really was going to be spectacular, and then opened the menu to start looking.

It had been long enough since lunch that the sight of so many food options was plenty enough to make her start considering the idea of an early dinner. In an hour or two, maybe. Some of it was too weird or too exotic to consider, but there was a lot that wasn’t.

She passed the booklet over when she was done making selections, but Callum seemed too occupied with the burgeoning sunset to want to look at it. She snorted, leaned in to kiss him on the cheek, and then leaned comfortably into his side to watch the city.

The sun fell over a period of around half an hour, sinking lower and lower, until the sky filled with such intense yellows and deep reds that it seemed almost to have caught fire. The grey slate of the city turned bloody red in the light, every golden trace lit up and shining in the growing dark. The few wispy clouds left in the sky were shining too, until the sun began to pass beneath the lip of the sea on the horizon, and the blue-green edges of the dusk glittered with stars.

“That,” He said, very softly, when dusk was ebbing into twilight, “was a really incredible view.”

Rayla had little artistry in her heart, but she’d appreciated that sunset. She knew that by contrast it must have touched Callum deeply. She looked at him, taking in his expression, finding it every bit as amazed and awed and happy as she could have hoped for. Her heart fluttered, happy for that he was happy, and in the warmth of that contentment she reached over to cup his cheek with her hand.

He looked at her, leaning into the hand, and offered her a small and very soft smile. Her thumb smoothed over his cheek as he lifted his hand to settle atop hers. Wordless, she leaned in to kiss him, warm and brief, and lingered there close by his face for a long while after their lips parted. He sighed very quietly, entirely happy and entirely at ease. It was peaceful in a way she’d dearly missed.

Feeling utterly suffused with warmth, Rayla nestled in beside him, fingers hooking lightly in the soft red wool of his robe. His arm came around her, and both of them sighed, and both of them settled, and it was quiet.

Neither of them felt the inclination to move or speak for quite a while. The sky was dark and full of stars by the time she shifted, and the city’s golden circuitry shining boldly through the shadow. The Moon, ascendant in the sky, was very nearly full.

“Might not be so bad after all, staying here a while.” She said, finally, and pressed her lips to his neck. “Comfy, nice bathroom, nice views…and the food options look kind of incredible, honestly.”

He chuckled, soft and fond. “Bit of a weird honeymoon.” He murmured into her hair. “But I’ll take it.”

She huffed. “Honeymoon.” She repeated, shaking her head.

Well. She supposed if they’d had to go through that whole forced marriage ordeal, they did at least deserve to get a nice holiday out of it. Even if most of that holiday was going to be spent working, the not-working parts of the day looked to be a lot fancier and more luxurious than they were back home.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Was her conclusion, in the end. “Did you decide what you’ll be eating?”

“Pretty much.” He kissed her brow. “You ready to order? It’s still kind of early.”

“Eh. It’ll do.” She shrugged, and listed off her selections. He kissed her again, then gently untangled himself from her limbs to go off and summon a servant.

The room had gone darker while the sun set, and the soft yellow glow of the fireless light fixtures along the walls had grown more prominent. Now a little curious, Rayla took the opportunity to investigate one, and on closer inspection found it to be some sort of…weird bioluminescent plant. Or maybe animal? It had long rigid tube-like structures that had plainly been cultivated into ornamental shapes, that looked almost like some sort of stone, though it had obviously been painted or dyed the usual deep red. It exuded a number of softly glowing yellow-orange tendrils from the openings at the end of the tubes, short and blunt but weirdly pretty.

She reached out cautiously to touch one, and at once the tendrils retracted inside the tube, the light dimming. Startled, she drew back to watch it, but the tendrils didn’t start to tentatively reappear again for another minute, during which she heard the light murmurs of Callum conversing with whatever servant he’d summoned.

When Moonshadow elves wanted light after dark, they just used enchantments, or glowstone, like normal people. Fancy Sunfire elves, however, apparently favoured plants. Or animals. She honestly wasn’t sure which this one was. Some sort of land-coral?

“I ordered the food.” Callum said, when he returned. “They said it’ll be about half an hour. And they’ll bring it all up at the same time so we don’t get disturbed twice.”

“Perfect.” She pronounced, with satisfaction, and then dragged him over to meet the light fixtures. Predictably, he spent a good ten fascinated minutes investigating the weird glowing polyps, and then a while longer sketching one out, and was half-way through that when the food arrived.

 -

(Snippet 5: after dinner, Callum and Rayla engage in some silliness, then cuddle. Domesticity.)

 “I’m so full I’m not going to move for a week.” Rayla announced, after staggering her way back through to their sofa, followed by an amused Callum. “It’s going to take at least that long to digest all of that.”

“That might make it tricky to get supplies.” He said, pretend-thoughtful. “But I’m sure we can work something out.”

She snorted, patted him on the shoulder, and then promptly pulled him into her side when he started looking at her in the imminent-cuddles sort of way. He hummed contentedly, turning his face into her shoulder, breath warming the wool over her collarbone.

“This bathrobe is so comfy.” He said happily, words muffled by wool. “It’s so nice.”

Having had very similar sentiments about his bathrobe earlier, she quite agreed. “Shame they didn’t include wool pyjamas, really.”

He didn’t offer any response for that, just snuggled, putting an arm around her waist. It was almost a little uncomfortable, really, what with how full she was, but she didn’t protest. She just held him close, smoothed her free hand over his hair, and looked out over the city. In the dark, watching the vaporous light rise felt very much like watching fire. It was very entrancing.

Some time later, Callum started to show signs of beginning to fall asleep on her. She looked down at him, snorted, and then nudged him until he stirred. “If you fall asleep now you’ll be up too late.” She informed him as he made plaintive noises at her. “I’m not having you exhausted and useless for your magic channelling nonsense tomorrow.”

“But you’re too comfy.” He complained, and she smirked.

“That sounds like an invitation to be less comfy.”

He opened an eye to peer at her suspiciously. “What do you mean, ‘that sounds’ – hrk!” His words cut off as, unceremoniously, she swept him up with an arm under his back and another under his knees, on her feet with a quick shift of her weight and his. She grinned down at him, finding him instantly and distinctly awake. “….Honestly this is still pretty comfy.” He said, weakly, when he’d spent enough time staring wide-eyed at her to recover his words.

Rayla pretended at thoughtfulness. “That sounds like a challenge.” She said, and he looked alarmed.

“It wasn’t! It wasn’t!” He protested, to no avail; she stepped around the sofa, judged her angle, and tossed Callum at the bed.

He wasn’t particularly aerodynamic, but her aim had been good enough anyway; he sailed neatly between the posts at the corners and impacted decadent Sunfire quilting with a muffled oof. She was laughing at him outright when he turned, staring at her with a sort of red-faced stupefaction that told her exactly what he thought of the whole experience. “Your face right now,” she managed, doubling over to snicker in his direction. Hilarious.

“You know, there’s a saying,” he began, a little dazed. “About trusting someone as far as you could throw them.” He pushed himself up on his elbows. “You could probably trust someone a lot, is what I’m getting at.”

“…I actually do sort of know how far I could throw you, now that I think about it.” Rayla said, thinking back. “It comes up in assassin training sometimes. Throwing teammates at walls and the like, to give them a leg up. I lobbed someone about your size around six, seven metres once.” She paused, and added “Lengthways, I mean. Throwing someone upwards is a lot harder.”

This did not make him any less wide-eyed. “That’s like, over twenty feet,” he marvelled, looking at her with plain admiration. “You’re amazing.”

She huffed, reflexively bashful at the praise, and shook her head. “Amazing at throwing people, at least.” She said dryly, and went over to stare down at him from the foot of the bed. “How’s the bed?”

“…Very nice, actually.” He said, after a pause for consideration. “You’re pretty bad at making things less comfy.”

“You’re definitely awake now though.” She pointed out smugly. “So my work here is done.”

He snorted, sitting up fully to beckon to her. Obligingly, she bent forwards to meet him with a brief kiss. “Hard not to wake up when someone throws you half-way across the room.”

She rolled her eyes. “It was not that far.” She said, and after a moment made the executive decision to fall forwards onto the bed, face impacting the plush duvet and sinking in. Her feet hung from the edge, and Callum giggled.

“Hehehe toes.” He said, and reached out to poke one. He found her four-toed feet amusingly charming every time he was reminded of them, which would have been funnier, except her feet were pretty ticklish and she twitched every time he prodded like this.

“I will kick you.” She warned, and he subsided with another snicker. Instead of messing with her any further, he shuffled over and started playing with her hair. “Mm. Better.” With a sigh, she closed her eyes and tipped her head forwards, face smooshing deeper into the bed. His fingers carded through her hair, nails trailing lightly at her scalp.

“You didn’t brush it.” He noted, carefully working out a couple of tangles, and she shrugged.

“Couldn’t be bothered. ‘Sides, it only tangles again when we cuddle, anyway.”

He hummed, and went through it again more purposefully, parting it carefully around her horns as he looked for and eliminated a few knots. He brushed around her hornbeds and she shivered. Apparently noticing the reaction, he did it again, more deliberately, chuckling at the way she murmured and pushed her head into his hand. “You look like a shadowpaw when you do that.” He said, affectionately, scritching gently around her horns. “Headbutting people’s hands when they pet you.”

“Anyone else and I’d be cutting off their hands, trust me.” She mumbled at him, already a little indistinct and fuzzy around the edges of her thoughts. Hornbed-scritches did that. “…Suppose the shadowpaw’d do that too. Except they’d bite the hand off instead, if they didn’t like you.”

“What I’m hearing is that if you were an animal you’d probably be a shadowpaw.” He sounded very fond.

“Mm. Guess so.” What would he be? Something doggish, probably. Friendly and playful and loyal, and then all teeth and fierceness when threatened. That sounded about right…

She drifted, a little. It was hard not to, when collapsed onto a comfy surface with one’s hornbeds being rubbed. He stopped after a while though, evidently noticing her drowsiness, and stroked a hand over her head between the horns as he chuckled. “Now who’s falling asleep?” He teased, and she made a half-hearted rude noise at him.

“’s your fault.” She muttered at him, indistinct around the duvet in her face.

“Uhuh.” He sounded amused, and stroked the back of her head again.

 -

(Snippet 6: very detailed depiction of horn care, which in-setting is considered intimate)

 She was suddenly very glad he’d interrogated her so persistently on the procedure earlier, because she wasn’t at all certain she’d have been able to tell him anything more sophisticated than ‘um’ when he was literally about to do her horns for her.

“You’re so cute.” He told her affectionately, obviously very aware of her current emotional state, and then finally set soapy hands onto her horns.

“Oh my god.” She muttered, cheeks flaming, feeling the weight of his hands, the subtle pull at the rest of her skull. She had never been quite so aware of her horns as when he started soaping them up and washing them, and it didn’t take long at all for the warmth of his skin to soak far enough through the keratin so that she could feel it in the living horn. A little while later, he applied the coarse-bristled-brush-side of the horn-scrub to her left horn, and she made a tiny embarrassed sound at the ceiling. “You should scrub them harder than that.” She managed after a moment, since he really was being too gentle about it. “Horns are tough, you know.”

He hummed with interest, and obliged, scrubbing hard enough that it pulled at her head a little. The towel-pillow had been a very good idea of his, really. “How much horn care do you normally do?” He asked, curious, getting the washcloth to rinse her horn before scrubbing again. “I’ve seen you file them, but…”

“…Usually just this. A good scrub to make sure they’re clean, and then filing down the rough bits.” Rayla offered a mortified noise. “But it’s been weeks and I’ve not even done that. They’re probably so dirty…”

“Shush, they’re fine.” He huffed at her, and kept on at her left horn until he was satisfied with it, moving over to the other one. Rayla regarded the ceiling with a persistently red face the whole while, cheeks feeling nearly as warm as the half of her body that was still in bathwater. “I wonder if your face is going to be this red the whole time.” He remarked, when he’d apparently finished with the washing.

“Probably.” She muttered, self-consciously, and felt her gut squirm when she felt the first experimental scrape of the fine filing parts on her horn.

Callum laughed softly, and started setting to work with the file. “If you say so.”

For all that he’d never done this before, the muted sensory feedback Rayla gleaned from her inner-horns and her ears suggested that he seemed to be doing fine with it. He readjusted the file enough that she could be relatively sure he was respecting the curve of the ridges, and worked slowly along the shape of each one, from the hornbed to the pointed tip, over and over again.

As she’d told him, it was a long process. It took a long time. Long enough that, contrary to her words, her embarrassment did start to burn out a bit, the red of her cheeks easing until she only felt a little flushed, a little flustered.

“I see why you thought the cloak would be a good idea.” Callum said ruefully, a while in. She could only imagine how much horn-dust and flaky bits of keratin must be littering it. “This does get kind of messy.”

“Told you.”

“For now this is just making your horns go sort of…pale, and scratched-looking.” He commented, working the file around one of the ridges on the underside. “I guess it goes dark again once you start buffing it?”

She made a small despairing noise, but agreed “Yeah, basically. Honestly all you really need to do is wipe it over with a wet cloth and it’ll stop looking like that. But…”

“But I’m not stopping there.” He said, with evident satisfaction, and a little more heat rose in her cheeks.

He was slow and meticulous about the filing, but got through it a lot more quickly than she could have if she’d done it herself. It was hard to work on your own horns – the angle was bad, you couldn’t see what you were doing, and adjusting to get the undersides was a huge pain in the arms. By contrast, doing it for someone else was just…a lot easier.

Finally, he set the scrub down and went for the washcloth again, soaping up and rubbing her horns clear of dust, poring over them for any spots he’d missed. When he was finally satisfied, he said “and now I buff them?”

“Mmhm.” She confirmed, bringing her hands up to hide her face for a moment. So, at her confirmation, he started on that part next. He evidently hadn’t expected how vigorous the buffing and polishing stages of horns were, because she kept telling him to press the buffer harder, and he kept making worried noises about it, and she had to keep assuring him that no that’s how it’s supposed to be, and eventually she start started laughing helplessly at him.

“I feel like I’m going to hurt your neck,” he complained at her, when the strength of the requisite motions pulled at her head. “Or like, hurt your hornbeds, or something.”

“I’ll be fine, Callum.” She assured him, still laughing, mirth and embarrassment squirming in her chest. “This is just how it goes, you know.”

“At least I brought you a pillow.” He sighed, and obligingly kept on. A fair while later, when he was done with the buffing and had washed her horns again, he leaned back a bit to admire his work. “That really is looking a lot smoother and shinier.”

“And you’ve not even done the polishing yet.” Rayla felt very weird then, laying back, eyes fixed on the ceiling. She’d been through embarrassment, and then amusement, and now…now, there was something else. She felt almost calm. Almost settled, like she’d finally started to grow used to this. Like the novelty of his hands on her horns had worn through.

Now, she felt kind of comfortable. At ease, in a way. Her mind was drifting in the way it did when Ethari or Runaan had helped her with her horns before, like this was just a normal thing. A normal thing that took ages, and that one had to daydream through to pass the time.

“I’m actually really looking forward to seeing what they look like when I’m done.” He was saying, as he put the buffing things down and went to get the bottle of polish and the polishing tool. “I’ve never seen your horns all done up before.”

“Maybe now you’ll finally understand what I mean when I say my horns have gone gross.” She pondered, and he laughed. “Finally you’ll know what well-kept horns are supposed to look like.”

“I have seen other Moonshadow elves’ horns, you know.” He informed her, obviously amused, and she heard the cap of the polish opening. A moment later, she smelled it, because there was really no mistaking that smell. “Yours still look nice no matter how long it’s been since you scrubbed them.”

Rayla made a disagreeable noise at him, and he snickered back, and then finally set about the polishing.

She’d told him, earlier, that horn-polish was pretty potent stuff, and that’s why you applied it to a sort of spongy cloth attached to a handle, rather than scrubbing with it by hand. At full strength, it actually melted the outer surface of the horn – just a little, just enough to meld it all down into a smooth, gleaming, perfect surface. Diluted polish was fine if you did it regularly, but with how long it had been for her…she’d told him to keep it undiluted. And it stank.

Her nose wrinkled, even with all the pleasant soap smells competing, and held her neck lax as Callum worked on her horns vigorously enough to pull her head back with every other movement. That was just how it went, so she wasn’t bothered. The towel was enough padding that it didn’t hurt, so she just laid there and let him work.

“Think I might actually nearly be done.” He pronounced at last, sounding genuinely a little out of breath. She’d told him it was hard work, and evidently he’d found that out for himself. He sounded very pleased, though. Like he’d done a good job and knew it, and was plenty proud about it. “Just got to wash all this polish muck off, right? Soap your horns up again.”

“That is the last stage.” She agreed, trying to glance up at him, but all she could really see was the top of his head. “Aside from oiling, I suppose.”

 -

 (Snippet 7: aftermath of horn care, domesticity)

 It was then, by the sink, that Rayla finally removed the towel from her head, and Callum made a loud noise of pure joy at her. She stared at him, alarmed, and then noticed where he was actually looking. Oh.

“Shiny!” He exclaimed, gleeful, and reached out to stroke her horns. “Oh my god.”

“Callum!” She complained, but she was already laughing, because honestly she should have predicted this reaction. He practically groped at her horns, bright-faced and beaming, and she flushed all the while she stood still and let him. “Are you going to let me see them any time soon?” She asked him, dry. “Or are you just going to stand there groping them?” He subsided at that with a very high-pitched giggle.

“Hehehe,” he offered, and then “yes, go look! You need to tell me how well I did.” He took her by the shoulders and turned her to the mirror, his face lingering by her shoulder in her reflection with the enormous grin still very much in residence there. He was such a dork, honestly.

Finally, Rayla tipped her head forwards and inspected her horns. They were…shiny. Very shiny. Every ridge had been filed and buffed and polished to a gleam, and when she turned her head, the light glimmered off of them like they’d been waxed. Her eyebrows went up, and she lifted her own hand to feel along one. It was smooth. Entirely dry, but as she ran her finger along one ridge, it felt so smooth. Their dark colour was actually glossy. “…Wow.” She said, a little admiringly, and tilted her head to watch the light move. “That is shiny.”

He looked absolutely delighted by that response, as if he’d needed her go-ahead to be certain that, yes, that was definitely impressively shiny. She smiled, helpless to stop it, and turned her head to kiss him on the cheek; her reflection mirrored her.

“You did a great job, Callum.” She told him fondly, her cheeks pink at having seen exactly how great a job he’d done. Stars, but the second anyone saw her they’d know exactly who was responsible for those horns. “My horns haven’t been this shiny in years.”

Callum looked at her like she’d hung the Moon, like this praise was enough to render him utterly overjoyed. He tugged her around enough to kiss her, deep and excited and full of energy, so much so that she made a muffled noise of surprise into his lips. It caught her off-guard, and she was feeling a little breathless and a little dazed when he drew away a few moments later. “You have to let me do this again.” He told her, beaming. “I’m going to keep your horns this shiny, just you wait.”

Her cheeks flamed, and she ducked her head, suddenly flustered. “You can’t just say things like that.” She complained at him, and of course he looked utterly unrepentant. He leaned in and kissed her, then moved and kissed her on one cheek, and then on the other cheek, and his hands were already up and stroking along the wide bases of her horns again.

“Smooth,” he commented, gleefully, fingers warm around her horns. His face was very, very close to hers. “They’re so nice.”

The heat in her face decidedly didn’t abate. “Oh my god, Callum.” She mumbled, shaking her head, and he just kissed her again. Feeling increasingly dazed, she said into his lips “you know, it’s a lot faster if you’re doing it regularly. You can skip the filing and just buff and polish instead.”

He considered this excellent news, if the way he kissed her was any indication.

Finally, she summoned the force of will to reach up and peel his hands from her horns, stepping away. It was not easy, because – because when he looked like that, so elated and alive and full of delight, when he kissed her so enthusiastically, it was hard to think of pretty much anything. She looked across at him, incredibly flustered, and couldn’t see anything except how beautiful he was. “You, calm down.” She ordered him, gruffly, and led him by the shoulder to the basin. “We came in here to brush our teeth, you numpty. Not fondle Rayla’s horns.”

“But Rayla’s horns are really really pretty.” Callum pointed out cheerfully, and she made an involuntary noise half-way between embarrassment and pleasure.

“Be that as it may, Rayla and her horns want you to brush your teeth now so we can go to bed.” She said, and she shuffled over to the basin to make good on her words.

 -

 (Snippet 8: Callum and Rayla go to bed finally. Cuddling, fluff.)

 It proved as magnificently soft and comfy as she might have expected, when she peeled back the covers and climbed in. Callum meanwhile was perusing the canopy with consideration.

“Curtains or no curtains?” He asked her, and she considered it.

“Curtains.” She decided, and watched with satisfaction as he reached out and unhooked the bed’s attendant drapery. She reached to the one closest to her, and he got the rest; it all fell into place, a rich dark red that blocked out the light from the room around them and cast their bed into soothing shadow. Something settled in her then, that hadn’t quite been at ease in the unfamiliar surroundings, or the openness of the room. She sighed, and burrowed down under the duvet, laying her head back on the pillows.

He joined her, lifting the covers and slipping in, closing his eyes for a second in obvious profound enjoyment. “This is so much better than hard cold floor.” He murmured happily, and she smiled, tugging him to her with a hand at his shoulder. He went gladly, and within moments they were pressed close, legs tangling, the warmth of his skin comforting against her own.

“Been a long few weeks.” She sighed, resting her forehead against his, and he lifted a hand to stroke her cheek.

“Kind of an understatement.” He murmured back. “I’m glad we’ve got a chance to rest now.” A pause. “Sort of, anyway. Aside from the work.”

She understood his meaning, though. There was something strangely safe about the idea of the time they’d spend here, whether it would be a week or longer than that. This wasn’t home, where there’d be people to explain things to, or where they’d have to adapt their old life to fit around what had happened. This was a new place – unfamiliar, but easier to cope with for that unfamiliarity, in its own way.

Here, she thought, they’d be able to find their footing a little. Settle a little more into their new normal, before the vagaries of travel and normal life needed intrude again.

“Me too.” She agreed, at last, and reached a hand across to press lightly around the back of his neck. He made a soft, pleased sound, then shuffled to give her better access, face smooshed into the pillow. She kissed him on the cheek, and he peered at her with one green eye, a smile fluttering on his lips.

“…Thanks for letting me do your horns.” He mumbled back, eventually. “I liked it.”

Her heart fluttered. “I’ll repay you sometime.” She promised, and moved her hand to smooth down along his upper back, enjoying the warmth of his skin. “Tomorrow, maybe. Give you a nice backrub or something.”

“Sounds great.” He shifted closer, tucking his face against her shoulder with a sigh. She kissed him at the top of his forehead, stroking him gently from the nape of his neck to his shoulders and back. He made quiet contented noises at her, drowsier and drowsier, and steadily began to drift off.

She lingered there, holding him, trailing fingertips over his neck as he settled into sleep. It really had been a long day for him, for all that they’d spent the latter half of it indoors and resting. Now, finally, he’d be able to sleep properly, in a bed comfortable enough to ease the ache of his overworn muscles. Now, finally, without the city’s doom hanging over them, they could rest a little.

Rayla smiled into his hair, nestled against him, and closed her eyes. She wasn’t aware of falling asleep, but it took her anyway; almost between one moment and the next, she was gone.

[3pirouette]

Fic: Say You’ll Remember Me (1/1)

Title: Say You’ll Remember Me By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette Disclaimer: They're not mine. Word Count: 3599 Distribution: AO3

Story Summary: The first time he heard it, it triggered a flash back just as bad as any he’d ever had before. Later, Natasha told him he stood stock still, a sweat broke out on his forehead and his left hand shook just enough that she was concerned there was something medically wrong with him.

Chapter A/N: I’m… sorry? I have ALWAYS thought this was a Steggy song, and this just seems… angsty. But… I needed it. About/inspired by Taylor Swift’s Wildest Dreams. Wildest Dreams came out in 2014, so this is set just before the events of Winter Soldier, in 1945 just prior to the train incident, and post End Game.

If you know of any other Wildest Dreams inspired fics, please tell me where I can find them. I NEED THEM.

I know that I am VERY vague in how I reference this song in the story. I don’t want the story to be about the song, but rather Steve’s reaction to it. Also, I wrote some HORRENDOUS song-fic back in the day- lyrics before sections, italicized in sections… crazy references throughout the story text. And not that there’s ANYTHING wrong with that- but I’ve been there, I’ve done that, and I ain’t going back. So… this isn’t song fic- it’s just inspired by. However, if you haven’t ever heard Wildest Dreams, 1. How did you manage that? And 2. PLEASE go listen to it before/while reading because it will change this for you.

~*~

The first time he heard it, it triggered a flash back just as bad as any he’d ever had before. Later, Natasha told him he stood stock still, a sweat broke out on his forehead and his left hand shook just enough that she was concerned there was something medically wrong with him. He stood there with his eyes boring a hole into nothing for so long that she worried other people were going to start noticing.

He remembered Natasha’s voice pulling him out of it, the way she drifted into his consciousness, the way the vision faded from his reality to the world around him, the way her face stayed calm but her eyes were concerned.

“Where did you go?” she asked gently, just as acquainted as any of them with the traumatic effects of the lives they lived.

Steve had to clear his throat before he could speak, the memory left him choked up and just a little heartbroken. “A long time ago,” he managed to get out, low and hoarse.

“Want to talk about it?” Natasha asked, the mask of the ever-adaptable spy slipping, revealing the friend beneath.

He shook his head, squared his shoulders, and started moving forward on the street again, the sound of music coming from the store next to them fading away, the song now different and far less triggering. “No.”

“Offer stands,” she tossed out flippantly, the mask sliding back into place as she kept pace beside him.

He managed to make it through the day, and their mission, without opening the pandora’s box of emotion that one silly song had caused, but that night he dreamed, vividly.

~*~

It was rare, to get leave. Even more rare to get leave at the same time.

Bucky stole a jeep, and the Commandos piled in, heading to the only pub in driving distance that was remotely open after a bombing raid a few weeks ago.

He didn’t know she had leave, she hadn’t mentioned it, but Peggy knew he had leave, and it wasn’t a mistake that she just managed to be at the pub, waiting at the bar, manicured nails tapping the wood nervously as he walked through the door.

He knew it wasn’t a mistake when Bucky pushed him towards her, the guys laughing and raising their eyebrows good naturedly, Peggy smiling at them like she was in on it all along.

They had been, and she had been, and Steve thought it was the best surprise he could have asked for. “You look beautiful,” he started, still a little off balance. “Nice to get out of the uniform.”

Her smile lit up the room. “Well, it was the nicest dress I had for the occasion.” She reached out, letting her hand fall over his shirt. “You clean up nice, as well.”

Steve laughed nervously. “Best I could manage. Most of the clothes I have are uniforms or from before…”

“Probably a tight fit,” she joked, letting her hand ghost over the arm of his shirt. “Though this fits well.”

“Bucky’s.” He looked past her shoulder at the guys who were looking back at them. Dum Dum raised his glass and his eyebrows suggestively, and he shook his head at them, looking back at Peggy. “Why didn’t you tell me you had leave?”

She shrugged, her curls bouncing over her shoulder. “Quite frankly, I thought Phillips would pull it any minute, right up until I left.” She turned and took a long sip of her wine. “I’m surprised he let any of us go, really.”

He was entranced by her, seeing her away from the base, seeing her seem so much more relaxed, so much happier, gave him a sense of purpose. They’d stolen kisses behind tents and held hands when they thought no one could see them in the dark, but they were still dancing around one another in a way that was both frustrating and enticing. This seemed like the first real chance they had to be themselves, to be more than Captain and Agent, and solidify the stolen moments as something much more meaningful. It was, very nearly, a real date. “Maybe… maybe we should get out of here.”

She didn’t need convincing. “Alright.”

Steve knew he’d made the right choice as the sounds of catcalls and whistles came from the Commando’s table in the back. Outside, where the air was just a little fresher and a little cooler, and he felt safe twining his hand in hers away from prying eyes that would gossip the next day.

They walked slowly up the little road, not knowing exactly where they were or where they were going, they managed to come across a small bridge on the edge of a park, just the barest hint of water trickling over the rocks beneath it as the sun started to sink in the sky, bathing them in a bright golden light.

She pulled him to a stop, looking out over the edge of the bridge. “Seems untouched, don’t you think?”

He stopped, watching her come alive in the lushness of the space. She seemed so happy to be away from mud and ranks and tents, that it almost physically hurt to know he’d have to bring her back. He took in the little park, the first hints of spring starting to bloom in the grass and trees surrounding what he was sure would be a lovely little creek once the spring rain started. “Beautiful.” He smirked, “But not quite as lovely as you are.”

Peggy rolled her eyes, unable to take the compliment. “Cheeky.”

He didn’t let her spoil it, though. “I wish I could draw you, just like this.” He looked her over, surrounded by the bright greens of the new spring, her dress and hair bouncing in the light breeze, her red lips standing out and begging to be kissed, the light in her eyes seemingly untouched by the war. His heart thudded in his chest with how beautiful she looked, how bright and vibrant. “I want to remember you like this forever.”

His words surprised her, and her smile softened. “You’ll remember me. That photographic mind of yours won’t let you forget, I’m sure, and then one day you can paint me, just like this, and they’ll hang it in the Louvre.”

He chuckled, taking a moment to look over every inch of her, hoping it would really commit to his memory like she seemed to think. “If they ever hang anything of mine in the Louvre, it’ll be because I was Captain America, not because it’s any great work of art.” He leaned on his elbows on the rail next to her, changing the topic quickly before she could form a rebuttal. “Rare to find anyplace out here that looks like this,” he mused quietly.

She wound her arm around his, leaning her head on his shoulder as she gazed out at the slow sunset. “It will take years for some places to recover… decades, even.”

Steve nodded, the feeling of her warmth against him comforting. “People are resilient. We’ve seen that already.” He reached over, letting his hand cover hers, gently moving the pads of his fingers over her bright red nails for long, quiet moments. “After the war—”

“After the war,” she sighed, cutting him off. Peggy leaned away, turning and taking his hand in hers. “There will be an ‘after the war,’ Steve.”

“I know,” he nodded, a soft smile on his lips, though her change in demeanor from soft and happy to serious and concerned did catch him off guard.

She almost laughed, huffing a bit then squaring her shoulders just like she did when she had to tell Phillips something he didn’t want to hear. “No one’s ever accused me of being overly sentimental,” she started, fighting to keep her eyes on him.

Steve just smiled, giving her hand a soft squeeze. “I think I’ve come to appreciate your… Britishness.”

She did laugh at that, and he watched just a little of the anxiety fall from her shoulders. “What I’m trying to say, what I want to say…” Peggy laughed again, a bright burst of nervousness. She turned away, mumbling to herself, “Good lord, why is this so difficult?”

Steve gave just the barest tug to her hand, bringing her back to him, eyebrows knit in confusion. “Just say it, Peg.”

She took a deep breath, and it all tumbled out. “I haven’t seen futures with people before. I haven’t wanted to… or, or needed to. Even… even with Fred it was just… I just expected it was what I was supposed to do. And then with this war, it was harder and harder to see past what tomorrow might bring. But Steve…” Peggy smiled, like she finally knew exactly what she needed to say. “Steve, I see a future with you. I see tomorrow, and the day after, and next month, and next year. I want…” She took a deep, steadying breath. “I want there to be an ‘after the war’ with you, even though I know I don’t show it much. Even though I know I can be hard to read sometimes. Even though I don’t write you long love letters when you’re away and I don’t spritz my perfume on your pillow for when you get back. I know I don’t always show it, but I want that. I want an ‘after the war’ with you.”

He knew he was grinning ear to ear. He couldn’t help it. “I want that, too, Peg.”

Peggy took a deep breath, smiling. “Good. Good. Yes.” Though she fought to keep it inside, her relief showed in how her eyes sparkled. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

Steve looked down at their hands, then back up to her. “I want to grow old with you, Peg, if you’ll have me.”

The sun was setting, shading her pink and purple, more like a dream now than anything. She squeezed his hand tight. “Yes, I think that’s quite a good idea.”

He kissed her, soft and gentle at first, but they quickly found themselves carried away and breathless, with her pressed up against the rough rock of the bridge.

Steve pulled away, her red lipstick staining his mouth, branding him as he tried to catch his breath. “Sorry, I…”

“No,” she whispered, equally as breathless. Stolen moments always seemed to end like this, and she was having none of it tonight. “No, don’t be. In fact, I’ve rented a room not far from the bar.”

“Peg…” He still hadn’t caught his breath, one hand still caressing over her ass as the other untangled itself from her skirt. He wasn’t sure if he was declining her offer, or simply asking her to rethink it. So much of their restraint had been to keep her reputation safe, to protect what little credibility she had with some generals who felt she shouldn’t be where she was in the SSR. It was a reaction to say they needed to stop, to pause, to protect her.  

“I’m not waiting until after the war to love you,” she retorted, taking his chin in her hands. “Not when I have you right here, right now.”

He kissed her again as the sun set behind them. “You’re right,” he whispered against her lips, taking her hand tight and pulling his handkerchief out to wipe the lipstick from his face. “Which way?”

~*~

When he woke up that next morning with the feeling of her lips still on his and her skin beneath his fingers, Steve hoped to never hear that song again.

It was popular, though, and it felt like everywhere he went he heard the lilting soprano: in grocery stores and walking on the street and on the radio. Most of the time when he heard it he was in public, and had no choice but to grit his teeth as the lyrics cut him to the quick, his mind supplying an image like a movie that looped over in slow motion, that distracted him and slowed his body down and made his heart beat quicker.

By somewhere around the twentieth time he heard it, he sat down and found the lyrics online and read them word by word, ignoring how his eyes welled up and how he felt an emptiness deep in his gut.

At least he knew the enemy now, knew the words that had snuck past his conscious mind and triggered what should have been a happy memory but was now only a signal of lost opportunities… lost time…

Lost love.

~*~

“I do wish you’d stop coming, Steve.”

Her words seemed at odds with the way she cradled his hand in both of hers. He lifted his other hand, setting it on top of hers gently, gripping her hands so, so softly. Sometimes, he was afraid she’d break under his touch she seemed so frail. “What do you mean?”

She laughed, and he saw the spirit that, no matter how her body failed her, was tough as nails. “I’m barely lucid these days.” The laughter was less frivolity and more self-pity, though, and he felt her fingers grasp at his as she kept their gazes locked, serious. “I don’t want you to remember me like this.

“Peggy,” he whispered, his words failing him.

There was no reassuring smile left for him. “I don’t want anyone to remember me like this.”

He looked away, hiding tears that had formed in his eyes. “I can’t just leave you here alone.”

Her whisper was soft and resigned. “I won’t know the difference.”

He left her, hours later, unsure if he should heed her request or hope she forgot it by the next time she showed up. He sat on his bike, trying to force himself to re-center, when a car stopped on the street a few feet away at a red light, windows down, the only song he didn’t want to hear at the moment blaring from its speakers.

He shoved his helmet on, knowing that at the very least, people wouldn’t be able to see his tears through the face shield.

~*~

Weeks later, the song had been replaced by some innocuous pop hit on replay on radio stations, and he started to breathe easier in public when there was ambient music playing. He thought maybe, just maybe, he could hear it and not think of her, of that day in 1945, of her lying in the bed at the nursing home, and be hit like a freight train with pain and loss.

Which is why, when the familiar heartbeat started to play one morning as he was cracking an egg into a frying pan for his breakfast, he was surprised to find the radio in pieces in his hands, the smoke of the burning egg breaking him out of the trance that had taken time, and the radio, from him.

He supposed it was safer if he stuck to his records. At least with those, he knew what kind of memories and melancholy he was in for with each mournful trumpet. He’d never imagined a song could cause physical pain before, but as he cleaned up the burnt egg and pulled the sparking end of the radio’s cord out of the wall socket, he couldn’t doubt that there was something about that song, something about the way this woman sang those words, that broke him just a little bit more each time he heard them.

~*~

He let his hand run over the cloth, just as soft as he remembered, though he didn’t remember the line of neat stitches at the hemline. He hadn’t known, until right this moment, she still had it.

“Steve?” Her voice floated through the hallway and back to him in the bedroom. He looked up just in time to find Peggy peeking around the door frame, smile on her bright red lips. “Find me something suitable to wear for this mystery date?”

A different him, a younger him, would have been embarrassed at being caught going through her dresses even though she’d asked, despite all that they shared now, but he was neither embarrassed nor bashful about it. “Sorry, got caught up.”

Peggy never seemed anxious about his little moments here and there, when a memory or loss hit him and he needed a minute to shake it. She was just as well acquainted with those moments, and those kinds of losses, herself.

Just like so many friends he’d lost, so many people he’d left both by circumstance and by choice too many times over now, everyone he seemed to know had lost something to the ravages of war.

She stopped, slipping into the room quiet as a mouse in her bare feet and robe, her voice calm and gentle. “No matter. I just need to get dressed. A preference?” She moved to him, the violet scent of her powder still hanging around her from just finishing her hair and make up for their dinner out. She took the dress from his hands and smiled fondly. “Oh, I remember this one. And our little… walk… that night.”

She held it up against her and shifted side to side, a vague model of it, as she smiled brightly.

The memory still punched him in the gut, even with her right there in front of him. He knew the singer wouldn’t be born for decades yet, and still he could have sworn he heard that damn song ringing in his ears.

She let the dress fall to her side, reaching out to take his hand. “Something wrong?”

He’d been back for months, and yet he still worried that she didn’t understand. “I remember,” he whispered, looking away. “I remember you on that bridge, smiling at me like we had our whole lives ahead of us.”

She held his hand tight, her voice low and serious, “We do.”

“But we didn’t,” he whispered fiercely, turning back to her. “Not when I was there- in that future or that timeline or whatever it was.” He shook his head and lifted the fabric of the skirt in his free hand, looking at the cloth as if it held the mysteries of the universe. “All I had left was this memory of you, standing on that bridge, with your hair waving in the wind and your bright red lips smiling at me like you didn’t have a care in the world. I had that memory so clear it felt like I could touch it, and it was everything I’d lost.”

She dropped the dress and it fell from his fingers between them as she moved closer, cradling his face in her hands. “I’m right here, right now, Steve.”

He couldn’t stop the heavy weight of his voice. “I’d lost you, and I’d lost my future when I woke up there.” He pressed his forehead against hers. “I lost my ‘after the war,’ because when I woke up there was just one fight after another and the war was never over.”

“It’s over now.” Her voice was thick with her own emotion as her thumb traced his cheek. “And you found your way back to me.”

“Peg,” he didn’t like the way his voice cracked when he said her name, but there was little he could do to stop it.

She pulled him close, kissing him fervently. “You’ll never have to remember me again, Steve.” She nuzzled her cheek close to his, pulling him even closer. “I’m right here. And God himself couldn’t tear me away from you again, do you understand?”

He clutched at her, holding her tight, as he nodded against her neck.

“We’ll stay in tonight, yeah?” She pressed her lips against his neck, and not or the first time he was struck with how thankful he was for this second chance.

~*~

He thought it was fitting that the first time he heard it again was right after her funeral, right after he was done shaking hands and consoling grandchildren and was still half dressed in his suit with no tears left to cry.

He hadn’t been avoiding it, truthfully hadn’t thought about it in years. But as soon as he heard that lilting soprano again, he stopped in his tracks.

This time, he sat and turned the radio louder.

This time, he could remember not only that moment of her on the bridge, telling him she wanted a future with him, but that night in her house, only months after he’d shown up on her doorstep.

He remembered the way she looked when they got married by the Justice of the peace.

The way cuddled next to him on the couch, scowling as soon as the Captain America Adventure Hour came on the radio.

The way she smiled at him when she told him she wasn’t deathly ill, but rather pregnant.

The way she looked with their daughter at her feet and their son on her hip, playing dolls as she talked with Phillips about national security over the phone.

He remembered all of these things and more: ever blinding smile, every tear, every laugh in their time “after the war” together.

He didn’t shake, didn’t freeze up, but rather felt a small, warm feeling in his chest: happiness tinged with just enough loss that the song still felt like an old, unwelcome friend.

He waited until the last, breathless notes were sung and snapped off the radio, done with music for the night.

If her were lucky, he’d see her in his dreams tonight, and that would be no bad thing.

[some-kindofgnome]

Kinktober #22: Water Damage: Mirio Togata

You get home from a particularly icy commute. But Mirio’s got a surprise for you. 

Characters: Mirio Togata x f!Reader

Warnings: smut (18+ please!) aged up characters, winter weather, bubble baths, reverse cowgirl (sort of?) vaginal fingering, fluff

Notes: This is not proofread at all, sorry guys! I fell behind a little on my writing so I finished this exactly 30 seconds ago. Going to try and get ahead over the weekend so I can give you some edited stuff to finish up! 💖 Today’s prompt was “in the shower/tub,” and I cannot imagine anyone better suited to bathtub sex than Mirio. 

Kinktober Masterlist

The city is a flurry of wind and damp snow and you’re stuck in the middle.

After standing shoulder-to-shoulder on the rush-hour train as it crawled through the blinding winter evening, you’re more than ready to be home. Of course, it’s a ten-minute walk from the train station to your apartment building- fifteen, since you’ve got to shuffle your way home with your nose tucked in against the wind.

By the time the elevator doors open on your floor, you’re frigid. There’s no jacket that could have prepared you for that wind. It was one of those unfortunate days, too, where the weather was mild all afternoon before taking a gloomy turn around rush hour. Your heart sank as you packed up your desk for the weekend at the mere thought of stepping out in the cold.

And the weather did not disappoint.

“Baby?” You call as you disrobe in the entryway, knocking the snow off your boots before toeing them off. It takes you a good two minutes to get all your layers peeled off, but for once, you’re still chilled by the time you get down to your clothes.

And Mirio still hasn’t shown up to greet you.

If he’s home when you get home- which he usually is- he comes around the corner before you can even get your boots off. But hos coat is still hanging by the door- and he’s nowhere to be found.

“Mirio?” You pad into the living room from the hallway. He’s not in the kitchen, either, but as you shift to look for him, you catch the barest hint of a delicate, soapy scent as it drifts from the bathroom.

“In here, princess,” he calls. Suddenly, you clue in.

Your apartment is neither extravagantly luxurious nor spacious, but the bathtub was something that Mirio didn’t budge on. He’d insisted, when you looked for a place together, that you had a tub. You promised him you’d be fine with just a shower, but… he knew you liked to soak away your particularly long days.

You’d convinced him to enjoy a bath bomb or two, in the months since you’d moved here. It’s been pretty cute, teaching him how to relax.

“Hi, baby.”

When you poke your head into the bright bathroom, Mirio’s already facing you. He’s crouching next to the bathtub with a near-sheepish grin on his face. You might think that bath prepared behind him was for himself, if he wasn’t still fully clothed.

The tub is filled to the brim with water and bubbles, lightly scented by the bubble bath you bought ages ago- but haven’t used yet. As the water sways gently you can see that it’s been tinted a pale bluish colour- so he used a bath bomb, too.

Mirio really knows how to spoil you sometimes.

“Hey,” he greets, getting to his feet. He’s got a scented candle in his hand, and he lights it quickly before setting it down on the vanity and opening his arms to you.

“C’mere.” He pulls you close, gasping a little as your cold palms plant themselves on his arms. “Man, you’re freezing. Is it still snowing out there?”

“Yeah,” you groan. He’s so warm that it aches to hug him, and you slide your hands under the back of his shirt, making him tense and gasp. But he lets you warm your hands against him, kissing the top of your hear and then resting his chin there.

“I figured you’d be chilly, walkin’ home in that,” he mumbles against you. You lift your chin, eyes wide.

“Is that for me?”

“Of course,” Mirio laughs, stroking a hand over your hair. “You can feel for yourself, I’m plenty warm enough already.”

You kiss his warm cheek and pull back to look at him. You can feel the smile pulling at your cheeks.

“Thank you.”

Pulling your hands from his back, you wrap one fist in the front of his shirt and tug him down for a short kiss. He leans into it eagerly, smoothing a palm in and out of the small of your back.

“Alright,” he chides. “Get in, before the water cools down. I’m gonna go fix us some dinner, alright?”

“Wait.” You grab his hand, nibbling on your lower lip. “Stay.”

He opens his mouth to speak, but you keep going.

“Stay with me,” you prompt, “and we’ll cook together afterward. Please? This is why you wanted the big bathtub, isn’t it?”

“You’re shameless, princess,” Mirio croons playfully. He kisses you again. “Absolutely shameless.”

You don’t waste time stripping down, peeling your snow-soaked clothes away from your freezing skin. Once everything has been discarded in a damp heap, Mirio climbs in first. He’s already half-excited at the sight of you bare, his slowly stiffening cock bobbing between his legs as he lowers himself into the warm, soapy water.

You resist the temptation to lick your lips and lower yourself in after him, settling in between his thighs and laying back against his chest. As soon as you sink into the water you’re letting out a little groan of sensation as the heat penetrates your chilled muscles.

“God,” he sighs, slipping an arm around you. “Y’can’t just make noises like that, Princess.”

He kisses your temple, feigning chastity, but you can feel his excitement, hard and twitching against the base of your spine.

“It feels kind of nice,” you purr, sliding your hands up and down his powerful thighs. “You’re all slippery like this.”

“So’re you,” he hums. His hands are starting to wander- he slips calloused fingertips over your chest, up the column of your sternum and over the swell of one breast.

“Baby,” you croon, and let your head fall back against his chest. Your body opens up to him and you can hear the way he grins above you.

“Yeah?”

You’re miles away from the icy chill outside. Red flutters behind your closed eyelids. You smile big. Real big.

“Hmm, touch me.”

Mirio doesn’t need to be told twice.

He slips two fingers between your legs, stroking deftly up and down your warming slit. His palm is weightless in the water and you let out a slow breath, arching your hips lazily against his touch.

He ruts his hips gently against your back with a bare little grunt, then slips his finger into your tight depths. Your toes curl carefully against the porcelain beneath you, but you want more.

“Wow,” he growls. His voice buzzes in your skull as he pumps one finger slowly in and out of you. His other arm is wrapped securely around your breasts, squishing them gently. He nuzzles the side of your neck, making you shiver and slip against his chest.

“You’re so tight for me already, Princess.” His dick twitches hard behind you and you know what he wants, but he’s going to wait until you ask for it. He’s always been the patient one.

“Fuck,” you sigh.

“Yeah?” He pants. “You like that? You feelin’ good, baby?”

“More.”

He slips another finger against your entrance, but you grab his wrist and squeeze hard. He stalls.

“W-what…” He stammers.

“I need your cock,” you mumble. You don’t need to turn around to know that his ears are turning red. He always gets a little flustered when you say something dirty. Before he’s ready for it, at least.

“In… in here? A-are you…” He looks over the edge of the tub. It’s already pretty full, with both of you in it.

“Don’t care,” you mumble, drawing your hips up and reaching between your legs. You wrap your hand around his thick shaft and squeeze. He grunts hard.

“Clean up after,” you sigh, stroking him up and down as you tease your pussy against his sensitive tip. He squirms underneath you and lets out an overstimulated little chuckle, grabbing for your hips.

“Alright,” he groans. “Whatever you want.”

He leans in to kiss your shoulder as you sink down on him. You’re barely prepared and it’s a stretch, but you don’t care. The water sloshes tantalizingly over your bodies as you seat yourself against him, and just like that he’s bottomed out inside you.

“Oh man.” He runs his hand over the slick curve of your ass. “This feels so much better than I thought it would. You’re so warm, princess.”

You grip the edges of the tub. He locks one arm around your waist and holds, tightly. You begin to move, rolling your hips smoothly over his lap and letting his thick length pump in and out of you.

Neither of you are going to last long, but it’s probably for the best. You’ve barely started to move, and already the water is beginning to slop and slosh over the side of the tub. You don’t hold back, starting to bounce with the current of the water and ride him in earnest.

Beneath you, his body spasms.

“God,” he gasps. “Baby, I-I’m not gonna… shit, honey, you gotta…”

One of his hands scrambles over your thigh, finding its apex and searching for your clit. He finds it and circles it deftly, jerking his hips against your downward thrusts and forcing you furiously toward your climax.

It spirals spectacularly out of you as you cry sharply into the humidity of the bathroom. Your fingers tighten hard against the edges of the tub and you slam your hips down hard, holding them there while your pussy clenches around him.

He follows closely behind you, forcing tight spurts of cum into your belly and letting you milk him dry.

When it’s over for both of you, you sit for a moment, basking in the heady glow of your pleasure and catching your breath. His chest is damp, but solid and broad behind you, and he traces his fingers idly over your side as he goes soft inside you.

“Well,” he murmurs, stirring quietly beneath you. He reaches for a bar of soap and lathers it between his hands, starting to gently glide the suds across your chest and stomach. “You’re definitely not cold anymore.”

You can’t help the giggles that bubble forward. Carefully, you ease off him and turn slowly to face him. Kneeling between his thighs, you lean forward and kiss both of his cheeks. His forehead. His laughing mouth.

“Thank you,” you murmur against his lips. He reaches up to catch your chin and brushes his nose against yours. Dips his chin and flutters his eyelashes against your cheek.

“You’re welcome, princess,” he hums. He leans back against the edge of the tub and shoots you his best rendition of a lazy smile.

“I’m gonna have to help you clean up now, aren’t I?”

[just-another-writer-cherry]

No Feelings Allow

Type: imagine

Warning: smut, oral sex, and just rough fucking  

A/N I really hope you guys enjoy this, Please like and reblog. Thank you so much for those of you who support me and my writing. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING 

Y/N POV 

I snuggle into Harry as much as I possibly can, since I know  pretty soon things are gonna have to go back to normal. You see Harry and I have been in this fuck buddies/ friends with benefits relationship for a while now. The worst part is that I’m starting to catch feelings for him, and I know in things like this the number one rule is NO FALLING IN LOVE, yet here I am like a total loser falling in love. 

This is how it all begun, well for me at least....

It all started when I first join harry’s band and as a form of celebration we when out for drink.

Bad Idea

I’m just gonna skip to the good part, since I don’t remember anything before that, I was honestly too drunk to even be aware of the world around me.

Flashback beings 

“Fuck Harry! go f-faster” I tell him 

“you like that huh? Like being fuck against a bathroom wall, like having my big cock deep in your tight cunt” he whisper sensually in my ear

“Yes! Fuck yes! I-I do” I tell him,  I don’t even try to keep my voice down because well I can’t all this feels do good. his face is burry in my boobs sucking on them harshly, he is playing and rubbing my clit with his free hand. He is thrusting into me roughly, and fast that I squeeze him every time he is going in and out me. I’m a moaning mess, his moans are getting muffle by my boobs. 

All this is feeling too good, I just can’t help myself but to cum. “H-harry, I-Im *moan* C- *moan* cum!” tell him, 

he comes up from my boobs and says “ you gonna cum, I’m cumming *moan* too *moan* but I want you to kiss me *moan* wanna have a proper snug with you Y/N” 

We kiss, a passionate and intense kiss . My tongue against his, saliva mixing, I can feel a bit of saliva coming out from the corner of mine and his mouth. Not too long into the kiss and I feel myself cum as well as harry. After we are both done cumming, we pull away from the kiss to catch our fucking breath. A string of salvia follows. 

End of Flashback 

After that I have no idea what happened, I think I might have pass out but I don’t remember. Needless to say, that the wasn’t going to be last time we were gonna do it. The second time happened while we were in a meeting about tour, he send me a text that said and quote “your tits are sticking out, and I wanna suck on them. Please🥺” My eyeballs almost roll of my sockets when I saw the text, that didn’t stop him from bending me over the bathroom sink and fucking me. 

From there we pretty much just kept doing that. Fucking. We became friends with benefits. Nothing more, nothing less. and it’s not like I wanted to be more than that, but after a certain amount of meaning less fucks, I couldn’t help but to feel shit for him.

God how much I wish I didn’t

I decide to put a stop to my thoughts, and get up. Once I’m off the bed, I rap the blanket around me and go search for my clothes. Once I get a hold of my underwear, I put it on and start to look for my t-shirt and jeans. I manage to find my jeans in record time, usually takes me longer for some reason. As I’m putting them on, I hear harry talk.  “morning” he says, turning over to his back, putting his hand behind his head. 

“morning” its all I say “have you seen my shirt?” I ask him, he only points to upwards, I slowly turn my head to look at the ceiling. My shirt its stuck on the ceiling fan! how did it end up there?! 

Harry just stands from the bed, nude, walks over  to his suitcase, picks one out a random shirt and throws it at me. he raps a towel around his waist. 

“we went wild last night, how are you still walking?” 

I just roll my eyes and laugh, he does too

“are you coming over tonight?” he ask me

“I don’t know maybe” I answer   

He just nods his head

“ok I’m gonna go, see you later” I’m about to go but he stops me 

“aren’t  you forgetting something?” he says and I just stop and think for moment

“my kiss, gimme a kiss” he says, what? why? 

Rather than question him, I just walk over to him and kiss him. I pull away and leave the room

That was new

~~~~~~~~~

Before the Concert

Y/N POV 

Harry and I are just chilling around in his dressing room before the concert, which starts i like 10-15 mins. I’m sitting on the mini couch playing a game on my phone,  while he is doing his voice exercise. I guess I’m so into this game I don’t release that he stop “Y/N are you listening to me?” he ask

“yes?” comes out more as a question rather than a statement

“I said what do you think of my suit?” he ask 

I look at him, my eyes going up and down but they stop at his neck, that’s when I spot it. A hickey. I drop my phone on my lab

“what? You don’t like it or something?”

“your neck Harry! you have a hickey” I told him standing up looking at his neck. 

He puts his hands around my waist, pecks my lips

“god what if your fan see it OMG! what if people find out that you -” He cuts me off

“Y/N chill, Its normal, I doubt fans will notice” he assures me, i just nod.

During the concert

We just got done with Adore You, now harry is interacting with the fans, everything is going well until someone shouts 

“HARRY WHERE DID YOU GET THE HICKEY?!”

Then another

“HARRY WHO GAVE YOU THE HICKEY?! WAS IT Y/N?!”

Then another

“Y/N DID YOU GIVE HARRY THAT HICKEY?!’

It continues, until harry spoke

“guys! Calm down! But it seems like you all interesting  in Y/N I’m gonna let her answer the question” he said while turning around and winking at me 

“That’s a proof of how much of a mob you can be” I said 

Everyone laugh including harry, he gave me a thumb up and continue

“ok this next one is call To Be So Lonely, sing if you know that lyrics”

We start playing “Nice save” Mitch told me 

 I when Pale.....

After the concern 

I start to walk towards Mitch dressing room, I open the door to fine him putting stuff into a bag, he was about to speak but I don’t let him

“how you know?” I ask him

“ It wasn’t that hard, C’m why else would you come out of his room every morning with his shirt on? or perhaps all the times you guys sneak off to fuck in the bathroom? doesn’t take rocket science to figure out what you two are up to”  he tells me

“I-how long have you known?” 

“for sure today, assuming two weeks after your welcome party” 

“why didn’t you tell me”

“didn’t wanna be one to ruin the fun for the two of you, that and it really isn’t any of my business plus I can tell you like him”

“what? I-maybe...” I say my voice fading at the end

“they all fall for the spell” he said and I gave him a confused look

“seat and I’ll explain” we both took a seat on the couch

“it happens all the time he shags a girl, they fall for him but with you he might have fallen too” he said and I mouth a how

“He kept you for more than a month, sneaks you into his bedroom every night, gives you one of his shirts to ware. the list goes on, I can see your not a simple shag your something else plus if you where he would’ve probably fire you and ended things with you a long time ago” 

“I guess you might be right” I told him

“I have to go he-” 

“is waiting for you” he finish my sentence  and I just nodded 

~~~~~~~~~~~

I was right, Harry was waiting for me. As soon as he saw, we when straight to the car and his driver drove us to the hotel. I’m currently in his room sitting on the bed, he is in the bathroom doing god knows what. I honestly thought we were gonna have sex. 

“What are you doing in their princess?” I ask him 

“I’m getting the bath ready, come in here to pick the bath bomb” he said and I’m confused why a bath? and just why? he seems to be putting a lot more effort this days. I get up walk towards the bathroom. Once I’m I see harry standing in nothing but his boxers and holding two bath bombs one on each hand. I stand in front of him. 

“where did you get this? and the pink one with flower” I told him

“fan gave them to me, thought it was time to put them to good use”

I just nod my head, he drops the bath bomb in the tub

“Come on get undressed the water is getting” he told me to and took off his boxer, got into the tub. I got undress and in the tub my back to his chest. he starts to cares my arms with the tip of fingers. He leans in and whisper in my ear.  “you’re so beautiful”

I feel one his hands go in between my thighs “you’re wet aren’t you? this is what you’ve been waiting for all night, been waiting for me to care of you, take care of your pussy” he says and I only moan

next thing you know, I feel one his fingers go up and down between my lips. I moan a little bit louder this time. “lift your your legs and place them on top of the sides of the tub” 

Once I do, he doesn’t bother waiting and inserts two fingers into my cunt, he starts to finger me harshly, its a mixture of pain and pleasure. I keep moaning 

“H-harry F-faster *moan*” he adds another finger

“you want it fast you dirty slut, fuck yourself on my fingers, I know you want to” 

I moan at his words, he keeps talking to me and saying things like

“you’re so tight”

“bloody hell, you getting even wet”

“Fuck yes, keep fucking yourself on my fingers, move those hips you dirty slut” 

I move my hips faster, his finger going in and out my cunt my a slapping noise, with his other hand he is rubbing my clit, fast really fast.

“c-cum C-CUM *moan* Fuck! Please” feels too good, I can’t even make a proper sentence

“cum Y/N be my little cum slut and cum for me” he said and I did, I came hard, I was trying to catch my breath

“need to fuck you, turn around and ride me” he demanded

“can’t cunt its too sore” I told him

“wasn’t asking, now fuck me” 

he turn me around, so I was straddling him. without a warning he put his cock inside of me.

“Fuck!” I scream 

I start to bounce up and down on his cock, we are both moaning extremely loud.

“Fuck Yes! Bounce faster baby!” He said and I try but my cunt is too sore, he however decided to take matter into his own hands and helps me bounce faster, there is water splashing everywhere. He then somehow took one of my tits into his mouth and started sucking on it. 

“AH! G-GOOD *Moan* H-HARRY- CUM *moan* PLEASE!”

“I’m Fuck- Cumming too baby”He said 

“cum, cum for me” I did I came so fucking hard and so did he

we just sat there for a second, catching our breath, Harry was rubbing my back up and down with one his hands.

“I think we need a shower” he said, I just look up at him and nodded 

“I’m sore, carry me?” I ask and he nodded with a smile 

After the shower, Harry and I decided to just chill and watch some TV, not too long after that we felt asleep.

~~~~~~ 

The next morning Harry had an interview at the Howard show. They were in the middle of something when Howard suddenly ask if there were any secret affairs going on in the band. Wow things got award very fast.

“so not affairs with the lady’s?  Y/N?” he ask , harry and I just look at each other and awkwardly laugh

“You two have been link a lot together, specially after the whole hickey thing that happen in your last concert.” he said, 

“No, we are pretty good friends... it would be awkward to think of a friend like that, it’s not right” Harry said rambling a bit 

“Y/N” Howard said, Mitch looked at me and raised his eyebrows

“Umm.. Mitch and Sarah but I don’t think that accounts as an affair, I mean everybody knows about them.” 

“so no harry?” he ask again, I just laugh shaking my head

“no, I don’t think he can handle a woman like me” I said some oh’s and laughs were heard 

“thanks that really helped my ego” He said 

“that’s what I’m here for” I said

The interview continued, he move on to other topics to be honest I kinda zone out.

~~~~~~

After the interview, Harry said to go to his room for some netflix and chill, I already new what he wanted. I knock on his door

“hey”

“hey” I said 

“remind me to give you a key” he said, I nodded and when to his bed

“whatcha you watching?” I ask him

“I don’t know”

He pulls me into his lap

“kiss me, you haven’t given me a kiss” 

I kiss him,

“I wanna snug you, fucking kiss me right” he told me

We started to make out, saliva mixing, mouth exploring, tongues dancing. We were so into this, it was hard to hear someone knocking. 

“go open the door and rid of whoever it is” I told him once we pull away 

he nodded, I got off his lap and he got up to open the door. I heard the door open and a voice as well 

“hey I’m here to work on the lyrics” Mitch fucking Mitch its here

“So I was thinking- Y/N what are you doing here? was I- Did I interrupt something” he ask and I just look at harry

“actually she was leaving” I look at him, seriously I’m the one who gets kick out why?, I don’t understand he call me not Mitch, I was mad, I’m done getting treated like I’m not important or only a fuck toy. I explode it

“I’M DONE HARRY, I’M SO FUCKING DONE, WITH THIS AND- AND EVERYTHING, DON’T EVER GO LOOKING FOR ME AGAIN, FUCK YOU ASSHOLE!” they were both shock at my sudden outburst, I got up from the bed and storm out the room to mines. 

~~~~~

After a good 15 min I heard a knock on my door

“if its Harry go away” I said loud enough

“Actually its Mitch Can we talk” I got up and open the door

“talk”

“he is confused, devasted, thinks it’s his fault, and he knows I know.” he said

“you told him?” I ask him

“not really, he just figure, anyways I think he wants more than what you guys have now”

“what if I get hurt?”

“God Y/N its Harry and love so of course you’ll get hurt but I also know he will take care of you, I’m almost certainly sure that he loves you, he wants more than this, take a risk for the both you because I know how much you two need it” He told me

“ok yeah, I’m gonna go talk to him” I got up and headed towards the door but Mitch stops me 

“here I think you are gonna this” he hands me a key

his room key

I smile and nodded 

~~~~~

Once in his room, I go to where he is standing. 

“hey” I say he jumps a little, and I just giggle

“Hello, how did you get in?” he ask

“Mitch gave me a key” I said lifting up the key

he nodded we stay in silence for a moment

that is before I had enough and just go up to him and kiss him.

We kiss for a little before I pull “I want more than this too” I whisper against his lips 

“be mine?” he ask 

“I was always yours” I tell him

We keep kissing, we move onto the bed, he lays me on my back, he starts to kiss my neck.

“Harry” I moan

“yes darling” he says

“can we-I wanted- 69″ I said 

“you wanna try 69?” he ask and I nodded

“I’m down top or bottom?” he ask me again

“top” I said

We undressed until we are completely nude the we get in position. With my cunt towards his face and his cock in mine. He starts me off by teasing my clit and slit my wetness around my pussy while he is doing that I start to give him Kitty licks on his tip. I decided that’s enough for me, and I start to suck, he on the other hand keeps teasing my clit and starts fucking my cunt with his tongue. he is moaning into my cunt and I’m moaning into his dick. he starts to rub me fast and hard, while I suck on him faster. little bits of cum dripping on the side of my mouth. He keeps eating me out so good. 

“OH MY FUCKING SHIT MY EYES BURN!” I hear a voice scream, I fall off the bed, I scream when I see who it was

“the fuck how did you get in?!”I grab the blanket and cover myself and so does harry

“seriously man, fucking knock next time!” harry said 

“My eyes still burn, You both are nasty, I’m out of here” Mitch said his hands covering his eyes, he bumps and trips a few times before making it out of the room. 

Harry and I just look at each other and laugh

but its not too long before we are back to 69

~~~~ Harry + 69 = 💀 

Thank you for reading.....